jHjm. 









. i ' ,0: 


1 


! 1 




^ 


m 


MMii 


f 




/ 


ii^ 


V 

' > 

4 


f 



^%>- 



vo 




' MWMSigffliig g*' 






■3SS8S88 



^ , ^ .Mi ;• , ,_ 




from Greeuwlcli 



PICTURES 



FROM 



H 



G' TQU T-JTCnnMlDV 
^ — i X ky XX XXX K_J X V_/ X L X I 



Great Historical Artists. 



SELECTED AND EDITED BY 



COLEMAN E. BISHOP. 



9 1883 /] 

NEW TOBK: ^J^op WASHl^^G^' 
PHILLIPS & HU N*^ -^ 

CINCINNATI : 

WALDEN & STOWE. 

1688. 



THE LIBRARY 
OF CONGRESS 

WASHINGTON 



, 6 l^^ll 



Copyright 1SS3, by 
New York. 



INTRODUCTION. 



The present volume is simply a compilation prepared 
for the use of the Chautauqua Literary and Scientific 
Circle. It is a gallery of pictures, by masters of pen-- 
palnting in English history, sufficiently full and graphic 
to interest even the tyro, and possessing literary merit 
enough to attract the most scholarly. 

Three things have been kept in mind in making this 
compilation : 

I. To give as much of the history of England as was 
possible in the space allotted. In order to make these 
particular productions parts of an unbroken chain, they 
are linked together by brief introductory paragraphs, 
while the series is supplemented by a chronological 
table of the important events and illustrious characters 
in Enghsh history. This will be found to be more than 
a bare table of facts and dates, for comment and inci- 
dent are introduced to help make up a brief history of 



Introduction. 



England, or, at least, to serve as starting-points from 
which to prosecute further inquiry. 

2. The subjects having been selected, the aim has 
been to choose the best authors. Here the compiler 
has experienced his greatest difficulty, owing to the em- 
barrassment of riches. One cannot hope to escape 
criticism from every reader familiar with the wealth of 
word-painting in English historical and biographical 
literature. To one who may wonder at the judgment 
which omitted his favorite passages, it can only be said 
that decisions have been reached through a desire to 
secure at once specimens from as many representative 
writers as possible, so as to give as varied and striking a 
series as the space would allow. 

The selections in the earlier part of the book are 
from writers who have prepared condensed histories, 
and thus helped us to cover much ground in a single 
chapter. The later chapters will be found, if less com- 
prehensive, more crowded with the gems and master- 
pieces of historical literature. 

3. The principal aim of the compiler has been to 
furnish such a tempting array of selections that the 
appetite of the student may be whetted for more ex- 



Introduction. 



tensive reading from the authors. It is believed that 
the contents of these pages are in harmony with the 
genius of the Chautauqua work, in style and reverent 
tone, and that they will be found stimulating to all minds 
and calculated to inspire better thoughts and aims. 

The editor desires gratefully to acknowledge the 
courtesy of parties who control the copyrights, in per- 
mitting him to use the "Norman Conquest," and two 
extracts from the writings of Motley. 



Contents 



CONTENTS. 



Page 
I. The Beginnings of English History. Charles Dickens. 9 

II. The Saxon Conquest. Gibbon and Taine 20 

III. The Christian Conquest of Britain. Bede and Charles 

Knight 26 

iV. Alfred the Great. Charles Dickens 33 

V. Dunstan, the Politician-Priest. Rev. yames White. 41 

VI. The Danish Rule in England. Charles Dickens 48 

VII. The Norman Conquest. C. C. Hazewell 51 

VIII. The First Crusade. Charles Knight 60 

IX. The Civil Wars of Stephen and Matilda. Augustin 

Thierry 66 

X. The Assassination of Archbishop Becket. Holinshed. 75 
XL The Penance op Henry II. Augustin Thierry 80 

XII. A Medieval Tournament. Walter Scott 84 

XIII. How the Great Charter WAS Won. Charles Knight.. 98 

XIV. Simon de Montfort. yohn Richard Green 103 

XV. Bannockburn. Walter Scott 108 

XVI. The Battle of Cressy. Canon Froissart 113 

XVII. The Siege of Calais. Canon Froissart 119 

XVIII. The Peasant Rising. John Richard Green 124 

XIX. Wycliffe and the Lollards. Charles Knight 129 

XX. Rise of England under the Plantagenets. Thomas 

Babington Macaulay 134 

XXI. The Battle of Agincourt. Charles Dickens 136 

XXII. The Wars of the Roses. Henry Reed 145 

XXIII. " The Last of the Barons." Edward Bulwer, 

Lo7-d Lyttott 152 

XXIV. BoswoRTH-FlELD. Miss Yonge 162 

XXV. " King Richard IV." James White 166 



Contents. 7 

PAGE 

XXVI. "The- Field OF THE Cloth OF Gold." Miss Yoitge. 171 
XXVII. Execution of Queen Anne Boleyn. Agnes Strickland. 175 

XXVIII. The Protestant Martyrs. John Richard Green 180 

XXIX. Mart and Philip. John Lothrop Motley 184 

XXX. Execution of Mary Queen of Scots. James 

Anthony Froude , . , . . 187 

XXXI. The Spanish Armada. John Lothrop Motley 194 

XXXII. Death and Character of Queen Elizabeth. Hume. 203 

XXXIII. Execution of Sir Walter Raleigh. Isaac Disraeli. 207 

XXXIV. The Roundhead Army. Thomas Babington Macaulay. 213 
. I XXXV. Dispersion of THK Rump Parliament. Thomas Carlyle. 216 

" XXXVI. The Plague in London. Daniel De Foe 221 

XXXVII. The Deposition of James II. Bishop Bzirnet. 227 

XXXVIII. The South Sea Bubble. Lord Mahon 234 

XXXIX. The Great Commoner During Two Reigns. Thonias 

Babington Macaulay 241 

XL. George the Third. William Makepeace Thackeray, . . 250 

XLI. The Battle of Waterloo. Victor Hugo 255 

XLII. The Turning-Point at the Alma. A. W. Kinglake. 268 

Chronology of English History 274 

Appendix 327 



i . 



Illustrations and Maps. 



SlluBixRixonB* 



Alfred in the Herdsman's Hut 35 

Richard 1 84 

John's Anger about Signing Magna Charta 100 

Richard II 124 

Tower of London 127 

Henry IV , 128 

A Lollard at the Stake 133 

Edward IV 152 

Richard III 162 

Chapel and Tomb of Henry VII 166 

Henry VIII 175 

Queen Elizabeth 203 

Execution of King Charles 216 

James II 227 

George 1 234 

George III 250 



St a ^ s » 

* • 

Map of England Frontispiece. 

Britain in 597 Face page 26 

The English Empire in the ioth and iith Centuries. " " 48 

Dominions of the House of Anjou " " 70 

The World, Showing British Possessions and Pro- 
tectorates " " 162 



PICTURES 

FROM ENGLISH HISTORY. 



I. 

THE BEGINNINGS OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 
B. C. 55 to 410 A. D. 

If you look at a Map of the World you will see, in the left 
hand upper corner of the Eastern Hemisphere, two islands 
lying in the sea. They are England and Scotland, and Ire- 
land. England and Scotland form the greater part of these 
islands. Ireland is the next in size. The little neighboring 
islands, which are so small upon the map as to be mere dots, 
are chiefly little bits of Scotland, broken off, I dare say, in 
the course of a great length of time by the power of the 
restless water. 

In the old days, a long, long while ago, before our Saviour 
was born on earth and lay asleep in a manger, these islands 
were in the same place, and the stormy sea roared round 
them, just as it roars now. But the sea was not alive, then, 
with great ships and brave sailors, sailing to and from all 
parts of the world. It was very lonely. The islands lay 
solitary in the great expanse of water. The foaming waves 
dashed against their cliffs, and the bleak winds blew over 
their forests ; but the winds and waves brought no advent- 
urers to land upon the islands, and the savage islanders 
knew nothing of the rest of the world, and the rest of the 

world knew nothing of them. 
1* 



Pictures from English History. 



It is supposed that the Phoenicians, who were an ancient 
people, famous for carrying on trade, came in ships to these 
islands, and found that they produced tin and lead ; both 
very useful things, as you know, and both produced to this 
very hour upon the sea-coast. The most celebrated tin 
mines in Cornwall are still close to the sea. One of them, 
which I have seen, is so close to it that it is hollowed out 
underneath the ocean ; and the miners say that in stormy 
weather, when they are at work down in that deep place, 
they can hear the noise of the waves thundering above tiieir 
heads. So the Phoenicians, coasting about the islands, would 
come, without much difficulty, to where the tin and lead were. 

The Phoenicians traded with the islanders for these metals, 
and gave the islanders some other useful things in exchange. 
The islanders were, at first, poor savages, going almost naked, 
or only dressed in the rough skins of beasts, and staining 
their bodies, as other savages do, with colored earths and the 
juices of plants. But the Phoenicians, sailing over to the 
opposite coasts of France and Belgiuna, and saying to the 
people there, " We have been to those white cliffs across the 
water, which you can see in fine weather, and from that 
country, which is called Britain, we bring this tin and lead," 
tempted some of the French and Belgians to come over also. 
These people settled themselves on the south coast of En- 
gland, which is now called Kent; and although they were a 
rough people, too, they taught the savage Britons some use- 
ful arts, and improved that part of the islands. It is prob- 
able that other people came over from Spain to Ireland, and 
settled there. 

Thus, by little and little, strangers became mixed with the 
islanders, and the savage Britons grew into a wild, bold 
people ; almost savage still, especially in the interior of the 
country away from the sea, where the foreign settlers seldom 
went ; but hardy, brave, and strong. 

The whole country was covered with forests and swamps. 



The Beginnings of English History. ii 

The greater part of it was very misty and cold. There were 
no roads, no bridges, no streets, no houses that you would 
think deserving of the name. A town was nothing but a 
collection of straw-covered huts, hidden in the thick wood, 
with a ditch all round, and a low wall, made of mud, or the 
trunks of trees placed one upon another. The people planted 
little or no corn, but lived upon the flesh of their flocks and 
cattle. They made no coins, but used metal rings for money. 
They were clever in basket-work, as savage people often are ; 
and they could make a coarse kind of cloth, and some very 
bad earthenware. But in building fortresses they were much 
more clever. 

They made boats of basket-work, covered with the skins 
of animals, but seldom, if ever, ventured far from the shore. 
They made swords of copper mixed with tin ; but these 
swords were of an awkward shape, and so soft that a heavy 
blow would bend one. They made light shields, short pointed 
daggers, and spears — which they jerked back after they had 
thrown them at an enemy, by a long strip of leather fastened 
to the stem. The butt end was a rattle to frighten an ene- 
my's horse. The ancient Britons, being divided into as 
many as thirty or forty tribes, each commanded by its own 
little king, were constantly fighting with one another, as 
savage people usually do, and they always fought with these 
weapons. 

They were very fond of horses. The standard of Kent 
was the picture of a white horse. They could break them 
in and manage them wonderfully well. Indeed, the horses 
(of which they had an abundance, though they were rather 
small) were so well taught in those days, that they can scarcely 
be said to have improved since, though the men are so much 
wiser. They understood and obeyed every word of com- 
mand, and would stand still by themselves in all the din and 
noise of battle, while their masters went to fight on foot. The 
Britons could not have succeeded in their most remarkable 



12 Pictures from English History. 

art without the aid of these sensible and trusty animals. 
The art I mean is the construction and management of war- 
chariots or cars, for which they have ever been celebrated in 
history. Each of the best sort of these chariots, not quite 
breast high in front and open at the back, contained one 
man to drive and two or three others to fight — all standing 
up. The horses who drew them were so well trained that 
they would tear, at full gallop, over the most stony ways, and 
even through the woods, dashing down their masters' enemies 
beneath their hoofs, and cutting them to pieces with the 
blades of swords or scythes which were fastened to the wheels 
and stretched out beyond the car on each side for that cruel 
purpose. In a moment, while at full speed, the horses would 
stop at the driver's command. The men within would leap 
out, deal blows about them with their swords like hail, leap 
on the horses, on the pole, spring back into the chariots any- 
how, and as soon as they were safe the horses tore away 
again. 

The Britons had a strange and terrible religion called the 
Religion of the Druids. It seems to have been brought over, 
in very early times indeed, from the opposite country of 
France, anciently called Gaul, and to have mixed up the 
worship of the serpent and of the sun and moon with the 
worship of some of the heathen gods and goddesses. Most 
of its ceremonies were kept secret by the priests, the Druids, 
who pretended to be enchanters, and who carried magicians' 
wands, and wore, each of them, about his neck, what he told 
the ignorant people was a serpent's egg in a golden case. 
But it is certain that the Druidical ceremonies included the 
sacrifice of human victims, the torture of some suspected 
criminals, and on particular occasions, even the burning alive, 
in immense wicker cages, of a number of men and animals 
together. The Druid priests had some kind of veneration 
for the oak, and for the mistletoe — the same plant that we 
hang up in houses at Christmas-time now — when its white 



The Beginnings of English History. 13 

berries grew upon the oak. They met together in dark woods 
which they called, sacred groves; and there they instructed 
in their mysterious arts young men who came to them as 
pupils, and who sometimes stayed with them as long as 
twenty years. 

These Druids built great temples and altars, open to the 
sky, fragments of some of which are yet remaining. Stone- 
henge, on Salisbury Plain, in Wiltshire, is the most extraor- 
dinary of these. Three curious stones, called Kits Coty 
House, on Bluebell Hill, near Maidstone, in Kent, form an- 
other. We know, from examination of the great blocks of 
which such buildings are made, that they could not have 
been raised without the aid of some ingenious machines, which 
are common now, but which the ancient Britons certainly 
did not use in making their own uncomfortable houses. I 
should not wonder if the Druids, and their pupils who stayed 
with them twenty years, knowing more than the rest of the 
Britons, kept the people out of sight while they made these 
buildings, and then pretended that they built them by magic. 
Perhaps they had a hand in the fortresses, too ; at all events, 
as they were very powerful and very much believed in, and 
as they made and executed the laws and paid no taxes, I 
don't wonder that they liked their trade. And, as they per- 
suaded the people the more Druids there were the better off 
the people would be, I don't wonder that there were a good 
many of them. But it is pleasant to think that there are no 
Druids now, who go on in that way, and pretend to carry en- 
chanters' wands and serpents' eggs — and, of course, there is 
nothing of the kind anywhere. 

Such was the improved condition of the ancient Britons 
fifty-five years before the birth of our Saviour, when the 
Romans, under their great general, Julius Caesar, were mas- 
ters of all the rest of the known world. Julius Csesar had 
then just conquered Gaul ; and hearing in Gaul a good deal 
about the opposite island with the white cliffs, and about the 



14 Pictures from English History. 

bravery of the Britons who inhabited it — some of whom had 
been fetched over to help the Gauls in' the war against him — 
he resolved, as he was so near, to come and conquer Briton 
next. 

So, Julius Caesar came sailing over to this island of ours, 
with eighty vessels and twelve thousand men. And he came 
from the French coast between Calais and Boulogne, " be- 
cause thence was the shortest passage into Britain ; " just for 
the same reason as our steam-boats now take the same track 
every day. He expected to conquer Britain easily ; but it 
was not such easy work as he supposed — for the bold Britons 
fought most bravely ; and what with not having his horse- 
soldiers with him, (for they had been driven back by a 
storm,) and what with having some of his vessels dashed to 
pieces by a high tide after they were drawn ashore, he 
ran great risk of being totally defeated. However, for once 
that the bold Britons beat him he beat them twice ; though 
not so soundly but that he was very glad to accept their pro- 
posals of peace and go away. 

But in the spring of the next year he came back ; this 
time with eight hundred vessels and thirty thousand men. 
The British tribes chose, as their general-in-chief, a Briton 
whom the Romans, in their Latin language, called Cassi- 
vellaunus, but whose British name is supposed to have 
been Caswallon. A brave general he was, and well he and 
his soldiers fought the Roman army ! So well that whenever, 
in that war, the Roman soldiers saw a great cloud of dust 
and heard the rattle of the rapid British chariots, they trem- 
bled in their hearts. Besides a number of smaller battles, 
there was a, battle fought near Canterbury, in Kent ; there 
was a battle fought near Chertsey, in Surrey ; there was a 
battle fought near a marshy little town in a wood, the capital 
of that part of Briton which belonged to Cassivellaunus, and 
which was probably near what is now St. Albans, in Hertford- 
shire. However, brave Cassivellaunus had the worst of it. 



The Beginnings of English History. 15 

on the whole, though he and his men always fought like 
lions. As the other British chiefs were jealous of him, and 
were always quarreling with him, and with one another, he 
gave up and proposed peace. Julius Caesar was very glad to 
grant peace easily, and to go away again with all his remain- 
ing ships and men. He had expected to find pearls in 
Britain, and he may have found a few for any thing I know ; 
but, at all events, he found delicious oysters, and I am sure 
he found tough Britons — of whom, I dare say, he made the 
same complaint as Napoleon Bonaparte, the great French 
general, did, eighteen hundred years afterward, when he said 
they were such unreasonable fellows that they never knew 
when they were beaten. They never did know, I believe, 
and never will. 

Nearly a hundred years passed on, and all that time there 
was peace in Britain. The Britons improved their towns and 
mode of life, became more civilized, traveled, and learned a 
great deal from the Gauls and Romans. At last the Roman 
emperor, Claudius, sent Aulus Plautius, a skillful general, 
with a mighty force, to subdue the island, and shortly after- 
ward arrived himself. They did little ; and Ostorius Scapula, 
another general, came. Some of the British chiefs of tribes 
submitted. Others resolved to fight to the death. Of these 
brave men, the bravest was Caractacus, or Caradoc, who 
gave battle to the Romans, with his army, among the mount- 
ains of North Wales. " This day," said he to his soldiers, 
" decides the fate of Britain ! Your liberty or your eternal 
slavery dates from this hour. Remember your brave ances- 
tors, who drove the great Caesar himself across the sea ! " 
On hearing these words his men, with' a great shout, rushed 
upon the Romans. But the strong Roman swords and armor 
were too much for the weaker British weapons in close con- 
flict. The Britons lost the day. The wife and daughter of 
the brave Caractacus were taken prisoners ; his brothers 
delivered themselves up; he himself was betrayed into the 



i6 Pictures from English History. 

hands of the Romans by his false and base step-mother; and 
they carried him and all his family in triumph to Rome. 

But a great man will be great in misfortune, great in prison, 
great in chains. His noble air, and dignified endurance of 
distress, so touched the Roman people who thronged the 
streets to see him, that he and his family were restored to 
freedom. No one knows whether his great heart broke, and 
he died in Rome, or whether he ever returned to his own 
dear country. English oaks have grown up from acorns, and 
withered away when they were hundreds of years old — and 
other oaks have sprung up in their places, and died, too, 
very aged — since the rest of the history of the brave Caracta- 
cus was forgotten. 

Still the Britons itwidd not yield. They rose again and 
again, and died by thousands, sword in hand. They rose on 
every possible occasion. Suetonius, another Roman general, 
came and stormed the island of Anglesey, (then called Mona,) 
which was supposed to be sacred, and he burned the Druids 
in their own wicker cages, by their own fires. But, even 
while he was in Britain with his victorious troops, the Britons 
rose. Because Boadicea, a British queen, the widow of the 
king of the Norfolk and Suffolk people, resisted the plunder- 
ing of her property by the Romans who were settled in En- 
gland, she was scourged, by order of Catus, a Roman officer; 
and her two daughters were shamefully insulted in her 
presence, and her husband's relations were made slaves. To 
avenge this injury, the Britons rose, with all their might and 
rage. They drove Catus into Gaul ; they laid the Roman 
possessions waste; they forced the Romans out of London, 
then a poor little town, but a trading place ; they hanged, 
burned, crucified, and slew by the sword, seventy thousand 
Romans in a few days. Suetonius strengthened his army, 
and advanced to give them battle. They strengthened their 
army and desperatel)'' attacked his, on the field where it was 
strongly posted. Before the first charge of the Britons was 



The Beginnings of English History. 17 

made, Boadicea, in a war-chariot, with her fair hair streaming 
in the wind, and her injured daughters lying at her feet, 
drove among the troops, and cried to them for vengeance on 
their oppressors, the licentious Romans. The Britons fought 
to the last ; but they were vanquished with great slaughter, 
and the unhappy queen took poison. 

Still the spirit of the Britons was not broken. When 
Suetonius left the country, they fell upon his troops, and re- 
took the island of Anglesey. Agticola came, fifteen or twenty 
years afterward, and retook it once more, and devoted seven 
years to subduing the country, especially that part of it which 
is now called Scotland ; but its people, the Caledonians, re- 
sisted him at every inch of ground. They fought the bloodi- 
est battles with him; they killed their very wives and chil- 
dren to prevent his making prisoners of them ; they fell, 
fighting, in such great numbers that certain hills in Scotland 
are yet supposed to be vast heaps of stones piled up above 
their graves. Hadrian came, thirty years afterward, and 
still they resisted him. Severus came, nearly a hundred 
years afterward, and they worried his great army like dogs, 
and rejoiced to see them die by thousands in the bogs and 
swamps. Caracalla, the son and successor of Severus, did 
the most to conquer them for a time, but not by force of 
arms. He knew how little that would do. He yielded up 
a quantity of land to the Caledonians, and gave the Britons 
the same privileges as the Romans possessed. There was 
peace, after this, for seventy years. 

Then new enemies arose. They were the Saxons, a fierce 
sea-faring people from the countries to the north of the Rhine, 
the great river of Germany, on the banks of which the best 
grapes grow to make the German wine. They began to come, 
in pirate ships, to the sea-coast of Gaul and Britain, and to 
plunder them. They were repulsed by Carausius, a native 
either of Belgium or of Britain, who was appointed by the 
Romans to the command, and under whom the Britons first 



Pictures from English History, 



began, to fight upon the sea. But, after this time, they re- 
newed their ravages. A few years more, and the Scots (which 
was then the name of the people of Ireland) and the Picts, 
a northern people, began to make frequent plundering in- 
cursions into the south of Britain. All these attacks were 
repeated at intervals during two hundred years, and through 
a long sucqession of Roman emperors and chiefs ; during all 
which length of time the Britons rose against the Romans, 
over and over again. At last, in the days of the Roman 
Honorius, when the Roman power all over the world was 
fast declining, and when Rome wanted all her soldiers at 
home, the Romans abandoned all hope of conquering Britain, 
and went away. And still, at last, as at first, the Britons rose 
against them, in their old brave manner ; for, a very little 
while before, they had turned away the Roman magistrates, 
and declared themselves an independent people. 

Five hundred years had passed since Julius Caesar's first 
invasion of the island when the Romans departed from it 
forever. In the course of that time, although they had been 
the cause of terrible fighting and bloodshed, they had done 
much to improve the condition of the Britons. They had 
made great military roads ; they had built forts; they had 
taught them how to dress and arm themselves much better' 
than they had ever known how to do before ; they had refined 
the whole British way of living. Agricola had built a great 
wall of earth, more than seventy miles long, extending from 
Newcastle to beyond Carlisle, for the purpose of keeping out 
the Picts and Scots ; Hadrian had strengthened it ; Severus, 
finding it much in want of repair, had built it afresh of stone. 
Above all, it was in the Roman time, and by means of Roman 
ships, that the Christian religion was first brought into Britain, 
and its people first taught the great lesson that, to be good 
in the sight of God, they must love their neighbors as them- 
selves, and do unto others as they would be done by. The 
Druids declared that it was very wicked to believe in any 



The Beginnings of English History. 19 

such thing, and cursed all the people who did believe in it, 
very heartily. But when the people found that they were 
none the better for the blessings of the Druids, and none the 
worse for the curses of the Druids, but that the sun shone 
and the rain fell without consulting the Druids at all, they 
just began to think that the Druids were mere men, and that 
it signified very little whether they cursed or blessed. After 
which, the pupils of the Druids fell off greatly in numbers, 
and the Druids took to other trades. 

Thus I have come to the end of the Roman time in En- 
gland. It is but little that is known of those five hundred years ; 
but some remains of them are still found. Often, when.laborers 
are digging up the ground to make foundations for houses or 
churches, they light on rusty money that once belonged to the 
Romans. Fragments of plates from which they ate, of goblets 
from which they drank, and of pavement on which they trod, 
are discovered among the earth that is broken by the plow, 
or the dust that is crumbled by the gardener's spade. Wells 
that the Romans sunk still yield water ; roads that the Ro- 
mans made form part of our highways. In some battle-fields 
British spear-heads and Roman armor have been found min- 
gled together in decay, as they fell in the thick pressure of 
the fight. Traces of Roman camps overgrown with grass, 
and mounds that are the burial-places of heaps of Britons, 
are to be seen in almost all parts of the country. Across the 
bleak moors of Northumberland the wall of Severus, overrun 
with moss and weeds, still stretches a strong ruin ; and the 
shepherds and their dogs lie sleeping on it in the summer 
weather. On Salisbury Plain, Stonehenge yet stands, a mon- 
ument of the earlier time when the Roman name was unknown 
in Britain, and when the Druids, with their best magic wands, 
could not have written it in the sands of the wild sea-shore. 

Charles Dickens. 



Pictures from' English History. 



II. 

THE SAXON CONQUEST. 

410 to 597 A. D. 

[After the Roman soldiers withdrew from the island the Britons were 
incessantly warred upon by their northern neighbors, the Picts and Scots, 
and by Irish and Scandinavian pirates. Emigrants from the peninsula 
that divides the North Sea from the Baltic had long been peaceable dwell- 
ers in Britain ; these and more of the Angles and Saxons helped drive 
back the invading tribes. At last the allies began quarreling, when or 
why we do not know ; but after centuries of desperate struggles the An- 
glo-Saxons made secure their hold on the island, and were finally amalga- 
mated with the Britons and remaining Eoman colonists.] 

Under the long dominion of the emperors Britain had 
been insensibly molded into the elegant and servile form of 
a Roman province, whose safety was intrusted to a foreign 
power. The stibjects of Honorius contemplated their new 
freedom with surprise and terror; they were left destitute of 
any civil or military constitution ; and their uncertain rulers 
wanted either skill, or courage, or authority to direct the 
public force against the common enemy. The introduction 
of the Jutes betrayed their internal weakness, and de- 
graded the character both of the prince and people. Their 
consternation magnified the danger; the want of union 
diminished their resources ; and the madness of civil 
factions was more solicitous to accuse than to remedy the 
evils, which they imputed to the misconduct of their adver- 
saries. Yet the Britons were not ignorant — they could not be 
ignorant — of the manufacture or the use of arms : the suc- 
cessive and disorderly attacks of the 'invaders allowed them 
to recover from their amazement, and the prosperous or ad- 
verse events of the war added discipline and experience to 
their native valor. 

While the continent of Europe and Africa yielded without 
resistance to the barbarians, the British island, alone and 



The Saxon Conquest. 21 

unaided, maintained a long, a vigorous, though an unsuccess- 
ful, struggle against the formidable pirates, who, almost at 
the same instant, assaulted the northern, the eastern, and the 
southern coasts. The cities which had been fortified with 
skill were defended with resolution : the advantages of 
ground, hills, forests, and morasses were diligently improved 
by the inhabitants ; the conquest of each district was pur- 
chased with blood ; and the defeats of the invaders are 
strongly attested by the discreet silence of their annalist. 
Hengist might hope to achieve the conquest of Britain ; but 
his ambition in an active reign of thirty-five years was con- 
fined to the possession of Kent. The monarchy of the West 
Saxons was laboriously founded by the persevering efforts of 
three martial generations. The life of Cerdic, one of the 
bravest of the children of Woden, was consumed in the 
conquest of Hampshire and the Isle of Wight ; and the loss 
which he sustained in the battle of Mount Badon reduced 
him to a state of inglorious repose. 

Kenric, his valiant son, advanced into Wiltshire; besieged 
Old Sarum, at the time seated on a commanding eminence ; 
and vanquished an army which advanced to the relief of the 
city. In a subsequent battle, near Marlborough, his British 
enemies displayed their military science. Their troops were 
formed in three lines ; each line consisted of three distinct 
bodies ; and the cavalry, the archers, and the pikemen were 
distributed according to the principles of Roman tactics. 
The Saxons charged in one weighty column, boldly en- 
countered with their short swords the long lances of the 
Britons, and maintained an equal conflict till the approach 
of night. Two decisive victories, the death of three British 
kings, and the reduction of Cirencester, Bath, and Gloucester, 
established the fame and power of Ceaulin, the grandson of 
Cerdic, who carried his victorious arms to the banks of the 
Severn. 

After a war of a hundred years, the independent Britons 



Pictures from English History. 



still occupied the whole extent of the western coast, from 
the Firth of Clyde to the extreme promontory of Cornwall ; 
and the principal cities of the inland country still opposed 
the arms of the barbarians. Resistance became more lan- 
guid as the number and boldness of the assailants continually 
increased. Winning their way by slow and painful effoits, 
the Saxons, the Angles, and their various confederates ad- 
vanced from the north, from the east, and from the south, 
till their victorious banners were united in the center of the 
island. Beyond the Severn, the Britons still asserted their 
national freedom, which survived the heptarchy, and even 
the monarchy, of the Saxons. The bravest warriors, who 
preferred exile to slavery, found a secure refuge in the 
mountains of Wales ; the reluctant submission of Cornwall 
was delayed for some ages, and a band of fugitives acquired 
a settlement in Gaul, by their own valor or the liberality of 
the Merovingian kings. The western angle cf Armorica ac- 
quired the new appellation of Cornwall and the Lesser 
Britain J and the vacant lands of the Osismii were filled by 
a strange people, who, under the authority of their counts 
and bishops, preserved the laws and language of their an- 
cestors. To the feeble descendants of Clovis and Charle- 
magne the Britons of Armorica refused the customary tribute, 
subdued the neighboring dioceses of Vannes, Rennes, and 
Nantes, and formed a powerful though vassal state which has 
been united to the crown of France. 

In a century of perpetual, or at least implacable, war, much 
courage and some skill must have been exerted for the de- 
fense of Britain. Yet, if the memory of its champions is 
almost buried in oblivion, we need not repine ; since every 
age, however destitute of science or virtue, sufficiently 
abounds with acts of blood and military renown. The 
tomb of Vortimer, the son of Vortigern, was erected on the 
margin of the sea-shore as a landmark formidable to the 
Jutes, whom he had thrice vanquished in the fields of Kent. 



The Saxon Conquest. 23 

Ambrosius Aurelianus was descended from a noble family 
of Romans ; his modesty was equal to his valor, and his 
valor, till the last fatal action, was crowned with splendid suc- 
cess. But every British name is effaced by the illustrious 
name of Arthur, the hereditary prince of the Silures in 
South Wales, and the elective king or general of the nation. 
According to the most rational account, he defeated, in 
twelve successive battles, the Angles of the North and the 
Saxons of the West ; but the declining age of the hero was 
embittered by popular ingratitude and domestic misfortunes. 
The events of his life are less interesting than the singular 
revolutions of his fame. During a period of five hundred 
years the tradition of his' exploits was preserved and rudely 
embellished by the obscure bards of Wales and Brittany, 
who were odious to the Saxons and^ unknown to the rest of 
mankind. The- pride and curiosity of the Norman con^- 
querors prompted them to inquire into the ancient history 
of Britain; they listened with fond credulity to the tale of 
Arthur, and eagerly applauded the merit of a prince who 
had triumphed over the Saxons, their common enemies. 
His romance, transcribed in the Latin of Jeffrey of Mon- 
mouth, and afterwaird translated into the; fashionable idiom 
of the times, was enriched with the various though inco- 
herent ornaments which were familiar to the experience, the 
learning, or the fancy of the twelfth century. The gallantry 
and superstition of the British hero, his feasts and tourna- 
ments, and the memorable institution of his Knights of the 
Round Table, were faithfully copied from the reigning man- 
ners of chivalry, and the fabulous exploits of Uther's son 
appear less incredible than the adventures which were 
achieved by the enterprising valor of the Normans, Pil- 
grimage and the holy wars introduced into Europe the 
specious miracles of Arabian magic. Fairies and giants, 
flying dragons and enchanted palaces, were blended with 
the more simple fictions of the West ; and the fate of Britain 



24 Pictures from English History/ 

was made to depend on the art or the predictions of 
Merlin. Every nation embraced and adorned the popular 
romance of Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table: 
their names were celebrated in Greece and Italy, and the 
voluminous tales of Sir Lancelot and Sir Tristram were de- 
voutly studied by the princes and nobles, who disregarded 
the genuine heroes and historians of antiquity. At length 
the light of science and reason was rekindled ; the talisman 
was broken ; the visionary fabric melted into air ; and by a 
natural, though unjust, reverse of the public opinion, the 
severity of historic criticism came to question the existence 
of Arthur. Edward Gibbon. 

characteristics of the SAXONS. 

Huge white bodies, cool-blooded, with fierce blue eyes, 
reddish flaxen hair ; ravenous stomachs, fill-ed with meat and 
cheese, heated by strong drinks; of a cold temperament, 
slow to love, home-stayers, prone to brutal drunkenness : 
these are to this day the features which descent and climate 
preserve in the race, and these are what the Roman histo- 
rians discovered in their former country. There is no living, 
in these lands, without abundance of solid food ; bad weather 
keeps people at home ; strong drinks are necessary to cheer 
them; the senses become blunted, the muscles are braced, 
the will vigorous. In every country the body of man is 
rooted deep into the soil of nature ; and in this instance still 
deeper, because, being uncultivated, he is less removed from 
nature. In Germany, storm-beaten, in wretched boats of 
hide, amid the hardships and dangers of sea-faring life, they 
were pre-eminently adapted for endurance and enterprise, 
inured to misfortune, scorners of danger. Pirates at first — 
of all kinds of hunting the man-hunt is most profitable and 
most noble — they left the care of the land and flocks to the 
women and slaves ; sea-faring, war, and pillage v.'as their 
whole idea of a freeman's work. They dashed to sea in their 



The Saxon Conquest. 25 



two-sailed barks, landed anywhere, killed every thing ; and 
having sacrified in honor of their gods the tithe of their 
prisoners, and leaving behind them the red light of their 
burnings, went farther on to begin again. " Lord," says 
a certain litany, "deliver us from the fury of the Jutes!" 
"Of all barbarians these are strongest of body and heart, 
the most formidable "—we may add, the most cruelly fero- 
cious. . . 

Under this native barbarism there were noble dispositions, 
unknown to the Roman world, which were destined to pro- 
duce a better people out of its ruins. In the first place, "a 
certain earnestness, which leads them out of frivolous senti- 
ments to noble ones." From their origin in Germany this 
is what we find them : severe in manners, with grave inclina- 
tions and a manly dignity. They live solitary, each one near 
the spring or the wood v.^hich has taken his fancy. Even in 
villages the cottages were detached ; they must have inde- 
pendence and free air. They had no taste for voluptuousness ; 
love was tardy, education severe, their food simple ; all the 
recreation they indulged in was the hunting of the aurochs, 
and a dance among naked swords. Violent intoxication 
and perilous wagers were their weakest points ; they sought 
in preference, not mild pleasures, but strong excitement. In 
every thing, even in their rude and masculine instincts, they 
were men. Each in his own home, on his land and in his 
hut, was his own master, upright and free, in no wise re- 
strained or shackled. If the commonweal received any thing 
from him, it was because he gave it. He gave his vote in 
arms in all great conferences, passed judgment in the assem-- 
bly, made alliance and wars on his own account, moved from 
place to place, showed activity and daring. The modern 
Englishman existed entire in this Saxon. If he bends, it is 
because he is quite willing to bend ; he is no less capable of 
self-denial than of independence ; self-sacrifice is not un- 
common — a man cares not for his blood or his life. In 
2 



26 Pictures from English History. 

Homer the warrior often gives way, and is not blamed if he 
flees. In the Sagas, in the Edda, he must be over-brave ; in 
Germany the coward is drowned in the mud, under a hurdle. 
Through all outbreaks of primitive brutality gleams obscurely 
the grand idea of duty, which is, the self-constraint exercised 
in view of some noble end. ... 

Is there any people, Hindu, Persian, Greek, or Gallic, 
which has formed so tragic a conception of life ? Is there 
any which has peopled its infantine mind with such gloomy 
dreams ? Is there any which has so entirely banished from 
its dreams the sweetness of enjo}Tnent, and the softness of 
pleasure ? Endeavors, tenacious and mournful endeavors, 
an ecstasy of endeavors — such was their chosen condition. 
Carlyle said well, that in the somber obstinacy of an English 
laborer still survives the tacit rage of the Scandinavian 
warrior. Strife for strife's sake — such is their pleasure. 
With what sadness, madness, destruction, such a disposition • 
breaks its bonds, we shall see in Shakespeare and Byron ; 
with what vigor and purpose it can limit and employ itself 
when possessed by moral ideas, we shall see in the case of 
the Puritans. H. A. Taine. 



III. 

THE CHRISTIAN CONQUEST OF BRITAIN. 

B97 to 827 A.D. 

[The Germans were idolaters, worshipers of Woden, and Britain, which 
had been nominally Christianized by Irish missionaries, was plunged again 
into heathenism by the conquerors. The next effort made for the conver- 
sion of the people was directed from Rome. The following account of the 
earliest efforts of the monk Augustine is condensed from Bede, the first ec- 
clesiastical historian of England.] 

Gregory, a Roman monk, of a noble family which traced 
its origin from the time of the imperial Caesars, when Rome 



IN 597 




The Christian Conquest of Britain. 27 

was mistress of the world, goes one day into the slave-market, 
which is situated at the end of the ancient Forum. Here he 
is struck by the sight of some young slaves from Britain, 
who are publicly exposed for sale, even like the cattle that 
are selling in another part of the Forum or great market- 
place. The children have bright complexions and fair long 
hair ; their forms are beautiful ; the innocence of their look 
is most touching. Gregory eagerly asks from what distant 
country they come, and being told that they are Angles the 
pious father says they would be Angels if they were but Chris- 
tians. He throws back his cowl and stands looking at them, 
and the children look at him, while some slave-dealers close 
at hand are chaffering with their customers, or inviting 
purchasers by extolling the fine proportions and the beauty 
of the young Northern slaves. The capital of ancient Rome 
and the Tarpeian Rock are in full sight ; the Coliseum shows 
its lofty walls at a short distance; the magnificent columns 
of the Temple of Jupiter Stator come within the picture, 
and there are other ruins of a sublime character. It is but 
the end of the sixth century, and many ancient buildings 
are comparatively perfect, though destined to disappear in 
the course of succeeding centuries, and to leave it matter of 
doubt and speculation as to where stood the Temple of Con- 
cord, where the Temple of the Penates or Household Gods, 
where the Temple of Victory, where the Arches of Tiberius 
and Severus, and where the other temples, arches, and 
columns that are known to have crowded the Forum and the 
spots surrounding it. As things are, we see the decay of 
Paganism, and the establishment of Christianity upon its 
ruins. The temples, which are entire, are converted into 
churches; there is a crucifix on the highest part of the 
Capitol; there is a procession of monks passing along the 
edge of the Tarpeian Rock ; the firm-set columns erected to 
that Jupiter whose faith could not stand are crowned with 
crosses — the cross of Christ shows itself every-where, on the 



28 Pictures from English History. 

summits of temples, over the crowns of triumphal arches, 
and upon all of the seven hills that are in sight. Gregory- 
quits the slave-market solemnly musing upon the means of 
carrying the knowledge of divine truth to the distant and 
savage land which gave birth to these fair children. Shortly 
after he determines to be himself the missionary and apostle 
of the Anglo-Saxons. He even sets off on the journey ; but 
his friends, thinking that he is going to a certain death 
among barbarians, induce the pope to command his return. 

A few years pass away, and the monk Gregory becomes 
Pope Gregory, and head of the Christian world, although he 
will only style himself Servus Servorum Domini, or Servant 
of the Servants of the Lord. Men call him "The Great," 
and great is he in his humility and devotion and generosity 
of soul. He lives in as simple a style as when he was a poor 
monk ; he is averse to persecution, holding that heretics and 
even Jews are to be treated with lenity, and are to be con- 
verted, not by persecution, but by persuasion. The wealth 
which begins to flow into the Roman See he employs in 
bettering the condition of the poor, in erecting churches, and 
in sending out missionaries to reclaim the heathen. He cannot 
go himself to the land of those fair-haired children, but now 
he sends Augustine, prior of the convent of St. Andrews at 
Rome, and forty monks as missionaries to England. Augus- 
tine and his companions make the coast of Kent, and after 
many dangers and fears and misgivings — for the Anglo- 
Saxons had been represented to them as the most stubborn 
and most ferocious of the human species — they land in the 
isle of Thanet. 

Ethelbert, the king of Kent, is a pagan and worshiper of 
Odin, one who believes that the pleasures of heaven, or of 
some future state of existence, consist of fighting all day 
and feasting and drinking all night ; but his beautiful wife. 
Bertha, a native of some part of the country which we now 
call France, is a Christian, and has brought with her from 



The Christian Conquest of Britain. 29 

her own country a few holy men who reprobate, but are afraid 
of attacking, the sanguinary Scandinavian faith and idolatry. 
These timid priests have built or restored a little church 
outside the walls of Canterbury ; but it is overshadowed by 
a pagan temple, wherein is the rude image, not of a God of 
Peace, but of a God of War and destruction ; and the for- 
eigners fear that their humble little church will soon be de- 
stroyed by the Pagan priests. But Augustine arrives, and in- 
vites King Ethelbert to hear the glad tidings of salvation, 
the mild voice of the Gospel. The priests of bloody Odin 
and of the murderous Thor apprehend conjuration and 
magic, and advise the king to meet the missionaries, not 
under a roof, but in the open air, where magic spells will be 
less dangerous in their operation. Ethelbert, with Queen 
Bertha by his side, goes forth to one of the pleasant Kentish 
hills commanding a view of the flowing ocean which the 
monks have crossed : his warriors and his pagan priests stand 
round the king; and there is a solemn, expectant silence 
until the music of many mingled harmonious voices is heard, 
and Augustine and his forty companions are seen advancing 
in solemn processional order, singing the psalms and anthems 
of Rome. The foremost monk in the procession carries a 
large silver crucifix. Another monk carries a banner on 
which is painted a picture of the Redeemer. The heart of 
Ethelbert is touched by the music and by the venerable, de- 
vout aspect of the strangers. By means of an interpreter, 
whose heart and soul are in the office, Augustine briefly 
expounds to the king the nature of the Christian faith, 
and implores Ethelbert to receive the holiest and only 
true religion, and permit him to preach and teach it to his 
subjects. 

The king listens in rapt attention, never once taking his 
eyes from off the missionary ; the queen blesses the day and 
happy hour ; the priests of Odin 'seem perplexed and irritated ; 
but the stalwart warriors leaning on their long, broad swords, 



30 Pictures from English History. 

or on their ponderous battle-axes, look for the most part as 
if they would inquire further and gladly hear the wonderful 
words of the stranger again. The Saxon king is more than 
half converted ; but he thinks it needful to be cautious. He 
says he has no thought of forsaking the gods of his fathers ; 
but since the purposes of the strangers are good, and their 
promises inviting, they shall be suffered to instruct his peo- 
ple ; none shall raise the hand of violence against them, and 
they shall not know want, for the land is the land of plenty, 
and he, the King of Kent and Bretwalda of all the Saxon 
princes, will supply the monks with food and drink and 
lodging. Upon .this Augustine and his companions fall again 
into order of procession, and direct their steps, solemn and 
slow, toward the neighboring city of Canterbury, chanting 
their anthems as they go. They reach the ancient city, and 
as they enter it, in the midst of a wondering crowd, they sing, 
with a holy and a cheerful note, " Halleluiah ! halleluiah ! may 
the wrath of the Lord be turned from this city and from this 
holy place ! " 

" Forever hallowed be this morning fair, 

Blest be the unconscious shore on which ye tread, 
And blest the Silver Cross, which ye, instead 

Of martial banner, in procession bear ; 

The Cross preceding Him who floats in air. 
The pictured Saviour I — By Augustine led, 
They come — and onward travel without dread, 

Chanting in barbarous ears a tuneful prayer, 

Sung for tliemselves, and those whom they would free ; 
Rich conquest waits them : the tempestuous sea 

Of ignorance that ran so rough and high. 

And heeded not the voice of clashing swords, 
These good men humble by a few bare words. 

And calm with fear God's divinity." — "Wordsworth. 

The work of conversion proceeds rapidly and smoothly. 
The Italians find the poor Anglo-Saxons of Kent rather 
gentle and docile than ferocious ; many gladly renounce a 



The Christian Conquest of Britain. 31 

creed of blood and hatred for a religion of peace and love ; 
the baptisms become numerous ; and at last, on the day of 
Pentecost, King Ethelbert himself yields to the arguments of 
the missionaries and the entreaties of his wife, and is bap- 
tized. On the ensuing Christmas ten thousand of the people 
follow the example of the king. Pope Gregory is transported 
with joy when these tidings reach Rome ; he writes an exult- 
ing letter to Eulogius, patriarch of Alexandria, giving an 
account of the success of his missionaries " in the most re- 
mote part of the world ; " and he forthwith appoints Augus- 
tine to be primate of all England as well as Archbishop of 
Canterbury. Such is the origin of our Church as related by 
the Venerable Bede. 

glimmerings of light. 

The century which saw the establishment of Christianity 
among the Anglo-Saxons, and the succeeding century, was a 
period of incessant wars. The pagan princes were some- 
times in the ascendant ; sometimes the converted. Some- 
times princes who had listened to the Christian teachers and 
had been baptized relapsed into paganism ; sometimes they 
enthusiastically threw away their power and became monks. 
Oswald, the Northumbrian, kneels before the cross in the 
neighborhood of Hexham, and defeats the British Csedwalla. 
Penda, the fierce king of Mercia, slays Oswald on the field of 
Maserfelth. Then Oswin overthrows Penda, the last and 
most powerful upholder of Saxon heathendom, who assailed 
every neighboring state with remorseless cruelty. Then 
Wulfere, the son of Penda, regains the dominion of Mercia, 
and is conqueror of Wessex. . Ethelbald succeeds to his 
power, but yields to the West Saxons, upon whom he had 
partly imposed his yoke. Offa, who has written his name 
upon the great dyke reaching from the neighborhood of 
Chester to the Wye, subjugates the ancient Britons, and 
ravages their territory; while the whole of the Anglo-Saxon 



32 Pictures from English History, 

states submit to his empire. Amid these changes of fortune 
— dire reverses and horrible triumphs — which were only par- 
tially brought to an end when Egbert of Wessex attained 
something like a supremacy at the beginning of the ninth 
century, and England had taken a place among the Christian 
communities of Europe — it is consoling to turn from the out- 
rages of barbarous chieftains to the contemplation of the 
learned and the pious, in their peaceful cells, keeping alive 
that flame of knowledge which without them might have been 
extinguished for ages. Out of his cloisters at lona the light 
of piety and learning is first shed by Columba over the dark- 
ness of the northern Picts. Wilfred, the bishop of York, 
builds churches in his diocese, and also teaches industrial 
arts to the South Saxons. Benedict Biscop, the abbot of 
Wearmouth, fills his monastery with books and pictures 
which he brought from Rome. Csedmon, the cowherd, sings 
*' The Creation " and the "Fall" in strains which have ob- 
tained for him the name of the Saxon Milton. Adhelm, 
whose Anglo-Latin poetry manifests his accomplishments — a 
minstrel as well as a poet — stands upon the bridge of Malmes- 
bury, and, as the peasants pass to and fro, gathers a crowd to 
listen to some of the popular songs to the accompaniment of 
his harp, and gradually weaves into the verses holy words 
of exhortation. Bede, a monk of undoubted genius and vast 
learning, sits in his cell at Jarrow, and amid other worthy 
monuments of his piety and knowledge, gathers the obscure 
history of his country out of doubtful annals and imperfect 
traditions, weaving them into a narrative which we feel to be 
a conscientious one, however intermixed with stories which 
we, somewhat presumptuously, term superstitious. These 
men, and many illustrious fellow-laborers, struggled through 
the days of heathendom, and scarcely saw the full establish- 
ment of Christianity in this land. But the influences of what 
they taught graduall)'- wrought that change which made the 
English one nation under one creed. In the meantime 



The Christian Conquest of Britain. 33 

knowledge is leading on to general civilization. " The dark- 
ness begins to break, and the country which had been lost to 
view as Britain re-appears as England." 

Charles Knight, 



IV. 

ALFRED THE GREAT. 

[The many tribal relations of the early Saxons and Britons gradually 
crystallized into seven distinct kingdoms, called the Saxon Heptarchy. 
Incessant wars reduced some of these under the lordship of the kings of 
others, until, in 827, Egbert became the king of all England, and the first 
of the early English kings. The greatest of these, and ixideed one of the 
greatest sovereigns in history, considering the times in which they re= 
spectively flourished, was Alfred the Great.] 

Alfred the Great was a young man, three-and- twenty years 
of age, when he became king. Twice in his childhood he 
had been taken to Rome, where the Saxon nobles were in the 
habit of going on journeys which they supposed to be relig^ 
ions ; and, once, he had stayed for some time in Paris. Learn- 
ing, however, was so little cared for then that at twelve years 
old he had not been taught to read ; although, of the sons of 
King Ethelwulf, he, the youngest, was the favorite. But he 
had— as most men who grow up to be great and good are 
generally found to have had — an excellent mother; and, one 
day, this lady, whose name was Osburga, happened, as she 
was sitting among her sons, to read a book of Saxon poetry. 
The art of printing was not known until long and long after 
that period, and the book, which was written, was what is 
called " illuminated " with beautiful bright letters, richly 
painted. The brothers admiring it very much, their mother 
said, " I will give it to that one of you four princes who first 
learns to read." Alfred sought out a tutor that very day, 
applied himself to learn with great diligence, and soon won 

the book. He was proud of it all his life. 
2* 



34 Pictures from English History. 

This great king, in the first year of his reign, fought nine 
battles with the Danes. He made some treaties with them, 
too, by which the false Danes swore they would quit the 
country. They pretended to consider that they had taken a 
very solemn oath in swearing this upon the holy bracelets 
that they wore, and which were always buried with them when 
they died; but they cared little for it, for they thought noth- 
ing of breaking oaths, and treaties, too, as soon as it suited 
Iheir purpose, and coming back again to fight, plunder, and 
burn as usual. One fatal winter, in the fourth year of King 
Alfred's reign, they spread themselves in great numbers over 
the whole of England, and so dispersed and routed the king's 
soldiers that the king was left alone, and was obliged to dis- 
guise himself as a common peasant, and to take refuge in the 
cottage of one of his cowherds who did not know his face. 

Here King Alfred, while the Danes sought him far and 
near, was left alone one day by the cowherd's wife to watch 
some cakes which she put to bake upon the hearth. But 
being at work upon his bow and arrows with which he hoped 
to punish the false Danes when a brighter time should come, 
and thinking deeply of his poor unhappy subjects whom the 
Danes chased through the land, his noble mind forgot the 
cakes, and they burnt. "What!" said the cowherd's wife, 
who scolded him well when she came back, and little thought 
she was scolding the king, " you will be ready enough to eat 
them by and by, and yet you cannot watch them, idle dog ! " 

At length, the Devonshire men made head against a new 
host of Danes who landed on their coast; killed their chief, 
and captured their flag, on which was represented the like- 
ness of a raven — a very fit bird for a thievish army like that, 
I think. The loss of their standard troubled the Danes 
greatly, for they believed it to be enchanted — woven by three 
daughters of one father in a single afternoon — and they had 
a story among themselves that when they were victorious in 
-battle the raven stretched his wings and seemed to fly; and 



Alfred the Great. 37 

that when they were defeated, he would droop. He had 
good reason to droop now, if he could have done any thing 
half so sensible ; for King Alfred joined the Devonshire men, 
made a camp with them on a piece of firm ground in the 
midst of a bog in Somersetshire, and prepared for a great at- 
tempt for vengeance on the Danes, and the deliverance of 
his oppressed people. But, first, as it was important to know 
how numerous those pestilent Danes were, and how they 
were fortified. King Alfred, being a good musician, disguised 
himself as a gleeman or minstrel, and went with his harp to 
the Danish camp. He played and sang in the very tent of 
Guthrum, the Danish leader, and entertained the Danes as 
they caroused. While he seemed to think of nothing but his 
music he was watchful of their tents, their arms, their disci- 
pline, every thing that he de.-ired to know. And right soon 
did this great king entertain them to a different tune ; for, 
summoning all his true followers to meet him at an appointed 
place, where they received him with joyful shouts and tears, 
as the monarch whom many of them had given u{) for lost or 
dead, he put himself at their head, marched on the Danish 
camp, defeated the Danes with great slaughter, and besieged 
them for fourteen days to prevent their escape. But, being 
as merciful as he was good and brave, he then, instead of 
killing them, proposed peace, on condition that they should 
altogether depart from that western part of England, and set- 
tle in the east, and that Guthrum should become a Christian, 
in remembrance of the Divine religion which now taught his 
conqueror, the noble Alfred, to forgive the enemy who had 
so often injured him. This Guthrum did. At his baptism 
King Alfred was his godfather. And Guthrum was an hon- 
orable chief, who well deserved that clemency, for ever after- 
ward he was loyal and faithful to the king. The Danes 
under him were faithful, too. They plundered and burned 
no more, but worked like honest men. They plowed, and 
sowed, and reaped, and led good honest English lives. And 



^S Pictures from English History. 

I hope the children of those Danes played many a time with 
Saxon children in the sunny fields ; and that Danish young 
men fell in love with Saxon girls, and married them ; and 
that English travelers, benighted at the doors of Danish cot- 
tages, often went in for shelter until morning; and that 
Danes and Saxons sat by the red fire, friends, talking of 
King Alfred the Great. 

All the Danes were not like those under Guthrum ; for, 
after some years, more of them came over, in the old 
plundering and burning way — among them a fierce pirate of 
the name of Hastings, who had the boldness to sail up the 
Thames to Gravesend with eighty ships. For three years 
there was a war with these Danes, and there was a famine in 
the country, too, and a plague, both upon human creatures 
and beasts. But King Alfred, whose mighty heart never 
failed him, built large ships, nevertheless, with which to pur- 
sue the pirates on the sea, and he encouraged his soldiers, by 
his brave example, to fight valiantly against them on shore. 
At last he drove them all away, and then there was repose in 
England. 

As great and good in peace as he was great and good in 
war. King Alfred never rested from his labors to improve his 
people. He loved to talk with clever men and great travel- 
ers from foreign countries, and to write down what they told 
him, for his people to read. He had studied Latin after 
learning to read English, and now another of his labors was 
to translate Latin books into the English-Saxon tongue, that 
his people might be interested and improved by their con- 
tents. He made just laws, that they might live more happily 
and freely ; he turned away all partial judges, that no wrong 
might be done them ; he was so careful of their property, 
and punished robbers so severely, that it was a common 
thing to say that under King Alfred garlands of golden 
chains and jewels might have hung across the streets, and 
no man would have touched one. He founded schools ; he 



Alfred the Great. 39 

patiently heard causes himself in his court of justice ; the great 
desires of his heart were to do right to all his subjects, and 
to leave England better, wiser, happier in all ways than he 
found it. His industry in these efforts was quite astonishing. 
Every day he divided into certain portions, and in each por- 
tion devoted himself to a certain pursuit. That he might 
divide his time exactly, he had wax torches or candles made, 
which were all of the same size, were notched across at reg- 
ular distances, and were always kept burning. Thus, as the 
candles burnt down, he divided the day into notches, almost 
accurately as we now divide it into hours upon the clock. 
But, when the candles were first invented, it was found that 
the wind and draughts of air, blowing into the palace through 
the doors and windows, and through the chinks in the walls, 
caused them to gutter and burn unequally. To prevent this, 
the king had them put into cases formed of wood and white 
horn. And these were the first lanterns ever made in En- 
gland. 

All this time he was afflicted with a terrible unknown 
disease, which caused him violent and frequent pain that 
nothing could relieve. He bore it, as he had borne all the 
troubles of his life, like a brave, good man, until he was 
fifty-three years old, and then, having reigned thirty years, 
he died. He died in the year 901 ; but, long ago as that is, 
his fame and the love and gratitude with which his subjects 
regarded him, are freshly remembered to the present hour. 

Under the great Alfred, all the best points of the English- 
Saxon character were first encouraged, and in him first 
shown. It has been the greatest character among the nations 
of the earth. Wherever the descendants of the Saxon race 
have gone, have sailed, or otherwise made their way, even to 
the remotest regions of the world, they have been patient, 
persevering, never to be broken in spirit, never to be turned 
aside from enterprises on which they have resolved. In 
Europe, Asia, Africa, America, the whole world over; in the 



4© Pictures from English History. 

desert, in the forest, on the sea ; scorched by a burning sun, 
or frozen b)'^ ice that never melts, the Saxon blood remains 
unchanged. Wheresover that race goes, there laws and in- 
dustry, and safety for life and property, and all the great re- 
sults of steady perseverance, are certain to arise. 

I pause to think with admiration of the noble king who, in 
his single person, possessed all the Saxon virtues : whom mis- 
fortune could not subdue ; whom prosperity could not spoil ; 
whose perseverance nothing could shake ; who was hopeful, 
in defeat, and generous in success ; who loved justice, free- 
dom, truth, and knowledge ; who, in his care to instruct his 
people, probably did more to preserve the beautiful old Sax- 
on language than I can imagine ; without whom the English 
tongue in which I tell this story might have wanted half its 
meaning. As it is said that his spirit still inspires some of 
our best English laws, so let you and I pray that it may ani- 
mate our English hearts, at least to this— to resolve, when we ■ 
see any of our fellow creatures left in ignorance, that we will 
do our best, while life is in us, to have them taught ; and to 
tell those rulers whose duty it is teach them, and who neglect 
their duty, that they have profited very little by all the years 
that have rolled away since the year 901, and that they are 
far behind the bright example of King Alfred the Great. 

Charles Dickens. 



DUNSTAN, THE PoLITICIAN-PrIEST. 4I 

V. 

DUNSTAN, THE POLITICIAN-PRIEST. 

[In the reign of Athelstane, grandson of Alfred the Great, rose Dunstan, 
the first of those ecclesiastical statesmen who at different times became 
practically the rulers of England. His influence, with one short interreg- 
num, was potent in the reigns of Edmund, Edred, Edwy, Edgar, Edward, 
and Ethelred, called " the six boy kings," from their youth upon acces- 
sion and their short and tragic reigns ; and so Dunstan's rule carries us 
from the strong reigns of Alfred and his immediate family through to the 
time when the Danes got control of England— a result to which Dunstan's 
policy had contributed.] 

Dunstan was presented to King Athelstane when he had 
just taken the clerical habit, and soon gained his majesty's 
aifections by the variety and excellence of his accomplish- 
ments. He painted and carved ; he worked in gold and 
precious stones ; he wrote the most wonderful hand, and il- 
lustrated books with the most beautiful designs ; and, above 
all, he composed the sweetest of tunes and sang the merriest 
of songs, accompanying himself on almost any instrument 
then known. Some people have supposed that he was also 
a ventriloquist, and availed himself of his powers of mimicry 
to make certain sounds appear to come from a harp which 
he hung up on the wall. But the deceit was found out by the 
enmity of the other courtiers, and Dunstan was turned out 
of the court. He went down to the church at Glastonbury, 
built a small cell, and coiled himself up in it, to the surprise 
of the beholders. All his gay doings were forgotten, as if 
they had never been. He wore hair shirts, and inflicted 
penances on himself, and fasted so much and slept so little 
that the Evil Spirit began to tempt him in hopes of inter- 
rupting so holy a life. He put his ill-omened countenance 
through the little hole that gave light to the cell, and began 
some depreciating remarks ; but Dunstan, who happened to 



42 Pictures from English History. 

be hammering some iron at the time, caught the visitor's 
nose in his red-hot tongs, and squeezed it till the enemy of 
mankind confessed himself defeated, and howled to be let 
go. Now it began to be whispered abroad that miracles had 
heralded the holy Dunstan's birth and surrounded him in his 
youth, and expectation rose high of the grandeur of his 
future career. 

Fuller than any one else of these expectations was Djin- 
stan himself. Edmund, the king, thought so powerful a 
champion should not be left in so humble a position, and 
made him Abbot of Glastonbury. Edred would not be left 
behind his brother in recognizing such merits, and offered to 
make him a bishop. Dunstan refused, and the king did not 
renew the offer. Immediately there was spread a report by 
the holy man himself that three of the apostles had appeared 
to him, and rebuked him for his folly in rejecting the poor 
see of Crediton, and commanding him to accept it if he had 
the chance given him once more, and not even to say " No " 
if the king asked him to accept the archbishopric of Canter- 
bury. In proof of the reality of the visit and of the serious 
nature of their indignation, the repentant abbot showed 
the marks on his back which the rods of St. Peter and the 
other apostles had left. Edred, moved, perhaps, by this ex- 
traordinary manifestation of the heavenly will, sent for the 
abbot, and made him his guide and counselor in the affairs 
of state. Dunstan had only two objects in life — to introduce 
the new doctrine of celibacy among the clergy and spread 
the papal power. Up to this time the English clergy married 
if they chose, though the popular prejudice against matri- 
mony was skillfully kept up by the monks and the pope. 
And a fortunate thing it is that they for a while succeeded in 
their design ; for if the powerful office-bearers of the Church 
had been allowed to wed, they would soon have degenerated 
into a hereditary priesthood, in imitation of the hereditary 
nobility ; and the endowments of the Church would have 



DUNSTAN, THE PoLITICIAN-PrIEST. 43 

been taken from the people at large to swell the revenues of 
a few influential families. 

Madly hating marriage, and madly worshiping the pope, 
Dunstan determined to show his supremacy over the highest 
in the land when Edwy, the nephew of Edred, succeeded to 
the throne. The king was but sixteen years of age, and had 
given his hand, without consultation with the Church, to a 
noble maiden of the name of Elgiva. At the marriage fes- 
tival, at which Dunstan was present, Edwy, tired of the 
noisy enjoyment of his nobles, retired to a room where El- 
giva and her mother were awaiting him. Instantly the 
furious abbot rushed in search, tore the youth by main force 
back into the banqueting- hall, and made him ridiculous in 
the eyes of the drunken crowd. 

Edwy perceived the danger he incurred if the abbot and 
his rabble of monks were not checked in their ambition. 
He banished Dunstan from Britain, and turned out the re- 
cluses of Glastonbury to make way for the married parish 
priests. But Dunstan had a coadjutor at home whom Edwy 
had not taken into account. This was Odo, archbishop of 
Canterbury, who entered into the quarrel with all his heart. 
He therefore stirred up treason against the crown, and Mer- 
cia and Northumbria rebelled. When Edwy was weakened 
by the loss of the greater part of his kingdom, Odo pro- 
ceeded more boldly. He seized the beautiful Elgiva, on 
pretense that she was some third or fourth cousin of her 
husband, and pronounced the marriage void. He then took 
precautions against the loveliness of his victim, which might 
still hold its empire over Edwy's heart, and he had her fair 
face scarred with hot irons till not a vestige of her faultless 
features remained. But youth and hope work more miracles 
than Dunstan, and a few months restored her cheeks to their 
color and her skin to its freshness. She rejoined her hus- 
band, who never would acknowledge the divorce, and Odo 
kept no farther measures. The young couple were seized at 



44 Pictures from English History. 

Gloucester. The queen was mangled beyond all hope of 
restoration to her former charms, and expired in the agonies 
of the torture. Edwy could not survive so great a sorrow, 
and died in a few months. Triumphing in his victory, and 
breathing vengeance against his foes, Dunstan came once 
more over the sea, and never cast a thought of pity on the 
victims of his zeal, who had both died before they were 
nineteen years of age. 

There was no farther opposition to the claims of the 
Church when Edwy's brother, Edgar, succeeded. He threw 
himself into the hands of Dunstan, promoted him to Wor- 
cester first, and finally to the primacy; and the object of the 
monk's efforts was attained. The Benedictine rulers were 
accepted in the English monasteries, and the country became 
tributary to Rome. With the help of this great ally, Ed- 
gar's authorit)'- was stretched farther than that of any of his 
predecessors. He summoned a meeting of his vassal kings 
at Chester. Eight subordinate rulers obeyed his command, 
and rowed him on the Dee in a boat steered by his royal 
hand. On this occasion he received the homage of Kenneth 
of Scotland, Malcolm of Cambria, Maccus of Man and the 
Hebrides, three chieftains of the Britons of Wales, and the 
kings of Galloway and Westmere, (Stirlingshire and Argyle ?) 
Pouring forth his treasures in the erection of monasteries 
and churches, blindly submissive to the orders of his spiritual 
adviser, there is no wonder that the Church, which was the 
judge of men's behavior, and the monks, who were the be- 
stowers of fame, were lavish in their pardons and panegyrics 
of so liberal a benefactor. . . . 

This period is the turning-point of Anglo-Saxon history. 
The debaucheries and crimes of Edgar, and the fierce fanat- 
icism of Dunstan, threw the whole nation into the utmost 
dissolution of morals combined with the bitterest polemical 
disputes. The thanes, or nobles, who resided in their dis- 
tant demesnes, sided with the parish priests to whom they 



DUNSTAN, THE PoLITICIAN-PrIEST. 45 

had been accustomed; and the peasantry also were satisfied 
with the married clergy, whose wives and sisters were of the 
same rank with themselves. But Dunstan banished the un- 
happy clergymen who preferred the mothers of their children 
to the revenues of their churches, and filled the parochial 
charges with monks who were ready to support him in what- 
ever he proposed. It is curious to remark that the Danish 
populations were generally favorable to Dunstan 's policy ; 
they were more recently Christianized, and saw less difler- 
ence between the regulars and seculars than the Saxons of 
older faith ; but in other respects the men of the Danelagh 
felt themselves to be as English as the men of Kent or Sus- 
sex. Great intermixtures had taken place. Odo, the arch- 
bishop, was a Dane's son ; Edgar himself had been educated 
by a Danish chief ; and the two populations were more like 
what we should call a Danish party and a Saxon party (as 
we used formerly to speak of the court and country parties) 
than national enemies encamped on the same ground. 

The death of Edgar deprived Dunstan of his greatest 
support, and Edward, his son by his first wife, although at 
first accepted by the Romish party, speedily perceived that 
the liberties both of crown and people depended on the 
diminution of the Church's power. He, therefore, dispersed 
the monks who had been established in place of the exiled 
priests, and was supported by the gratitude of the men he 
had restored to their homes, and by the assembly of the 
Witan, or parliament, which he summoned to meet at Calne. 
Dunstan, however, was not to be daunted by a young king 
and a secular council ; and when the whole of the nobility 
and higher clergy were met in an upper chamber, and were 
prepared to pass resolutions against the presumptuous arch- 
bishop, that holy man had recourse to prayer, and prayed so 
long and so successfully that the joists of the floor gave 
way at the end where his enemies were seated, and left him 
safe at the other corner. There were many deaths and 



46 Pictures from English History. 

severe sufferings caused by this miraculous incident, and the 
monks were eloquent on the evidence it afforded of the saint- 
liness of their chief. Modern inquirers, however, have been 
inclined to believe that the early studies of the recluse in 
carpentering and iron work had more to do -with the failure 
of the beams than the credulous ecclesiastics supposed. 

The miracle was successful for a time ; but an event which 
happened in the following year was not so favorable to the 
prelate's views, for it strengthened the hands of his enemy, 
the ferocious Elfrida, who had endeavored, on the death of 
her husband, to procure the crown for her son Ethelred, to 
the exclusion of his elder brother. Dunstan, at the head of 
the monks, had opposed her in this attempt, and probably 
regretted the part he took in securing the succession of Ed- 
ward when he perceived the little influence he obtained 
over the young king's mind. Elfrida lived with her son in 
discontented retirement at Corfe Castle, in Dorsetshire, keep- 
ing up a correspondence with the earls or aldermen of the 
various shires who Avere in favor of the secular or married 
clergy. Edward was only eighteen years of age, and Ethel- 
red scarcely ten. The brothers had not shared in the ani- 
mosities of their respective adherents, and loved each other 
with sincere affection. Edward was out hunting in the 
neighborhood of Ethelred's house, and rode up to the door 
alone. He asked for a little wine to drink his brother's 
health, and Elfrida, with exaggerated expressions of kind- 
ness, gave him the cup. While he was drinking it, an attend- 
ant of the queen, not, we may believe, without a signal from 
his mistress, stabbed the young monarch in the back. The 
horse started off alarmed. Weakened with loss of blood, 
the rider lost his seat, and was dragged by his stirrup a long 
way. When his companions tracked him by the gore upon 
the sand, they found him mangled almost past recognition, 
and the guilty hand was immediately suspected. No sus- 
picion, however, attached to Ethelred, and in a. short time 



DUNSTAN, THE POOTICIAN-PrIEST. 47 

he was crowned by the archbishop in person, who had failed 
in persuading a daughter of Edgar — by the nun whom he 
had torn from the monastery at Wilton — to leave the cell 
from which her mother had been forced, and mount the 
vacant throne. 

Ethelred obtained, from the enmity of the archbishop, the 
depreciatory name of " the Unready," and appeared to fulfill 
a curse which the prelate had uttered against him on his 
coronation day, by the calamities of which he was constantly 
the victim, and sometimes the cause. The public attention 
had been so occupied with the great ecclesiastic dispute that 
the defense of the nation against foreign enemies had been 
neglected for many years. It was now found that the tri- 
umphs of Dunstan had so filled the land with monks, that 
there was a scarcity of able-bodied laymen either to fight or 
plow. Vast numbers had shaved their heads and sunk into 
the useless security of the cloister, who might have been re- 
lied on with bow and spear when the danger, long threatened, 
at last drew near. The Norsemen were again upon the sea, 
and having established a powerful state on the opposite 
shore, under the name of the Dukedom of Normandy, were 
determined to make themselves masters of the unprotected 
and monk-ridden England in the same way. 

Rev, James White. 



48 Pictures from English History. 

VI. 

THE DANISH RULE IN ENGLAND. 

[Ethelred was the last king of purely Saxon-Celtic blood. His reign was 
but thirty.five years of struggling to push back, or buy off, the Danish 
invasions. With the death of Ethelred, England fell over-ripe into the 
hands of Canute.] 

Was Canute to be king now ? Not over the Saxons, they 
said ; they must have Edmund, one of the sons of the Un- 
ready, who was surnamed Ironside, because of his strength 
and stature. Edmund and Canute thereupon fell to, and 
fought five battles — O, unhappy England, what a fighting- 
ground it was ! — and then Ironside, who was a big man, pro- 
posed to Canute, who was a little man, that they two should 
fight it out in single combat. If Canute had been the big 
man, he would probably have said Yes, but, being the little 
man, he decidedly said No. However, he declared that he 
was willing to divide the kingdom — to take all that lay north 
of Watling Street, as the old Roman military road from 
Dover to Chester was called, and to give Ironside all that lay 
south of it. Most men being weary of so much bloodshed, 
this was done. But Canute soon became sole king of En- 
gland ; for Ironside died suddenly within two months. Some 
think that he was killed, and killed by Canute's orders. No 
one knows, 

Canute reigned eighteen years. He was a merciless king 
at first. After he had clasped the hands of the Saxon chiefs, 
in token of the sincerity with which he swore to be just and 
good to them in return for their acknowledging him, he de- 
nounced and slew many of them, as well as many relations 
of the late king, " He who brings me the head of one of 
my enemies," he used to say, " shall be dearer to me than a 
brother." He was so severe in hunting down his enemies 
that he must have got together a pretty large family of these 



XJ^Orkney 




The Danish Rule in England. 49 

dear brothers. He was strongly inclined to kill Edmund and 
Edward, two children, sons of poor Ironside ; but, being afraid 
to do so in England, he sent them over to the king of Sweden, 
with a request that the king would be so good as to " dispose 
of them." If the king of Sweden had been like many, many 
other men of that day, he would have had their innocent 
throats cut ; but he was a kind man, and brought them tip 
tenderly. 

Normandy ran much in Canute's mind. In Normandy 
were the two children of the late king — Edward and Alfred 
by name ; and their uncle, the duke, might one day claim the 
crown for them. But the duke showed so little inclination 
to do so now that he proposed to Canute to marry his sister, 
the widow of the Unready ; who, being but a showy flower, 
and caring for nothing so much as becoming a queen again, 
left her children, and was wedded to him. 

Successful and triumphant, assisted by the valor of the 
English in his foreign wars, and with little strife to trouble 
him at home, Canute had a prosperous reign, and made many 
improvements. He was a poet and a musician. He grew 
sorry, as he grew older, for the blood he had shed at first ; 
and went to Rome in a pilgrim's dress, by way of washing it 
out. He gave a great deal of money to foreigners on his 
journey ; but he took it frc^n the English before he started. 
On the whole, however, he'x^ertainly became a far better man 
when he had no opposition to contend with, and was as 
great a king as England had known for some time. 

The old writers of history relate how that Canute was one 
day disgusted with his courtiers for their flattery, and how 
he caused his chair to be set on the sea-shore, and feigned to 
command the tide, as it came up, not to wet the edge of his 
robe, for the land was his ; how the tide came up, of course, 
without regarding him ; and how he then turned to his 
flatterers, and rebuked them, saying, what was the might of 
any earthly king to the might of the Creator, who oould say 



5© Pictures from English History. 



unto the sea, " Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther ? " 
We may learn from this, I think, that a little sense will go a 
long way in a king ; and that courtiers are not easily cured 
of flattery, nor kings of a liking for it. If the courtiers of 
Canute had not known, long before, that the king was fond 
of flattery, they would have known better than to offer it in 
such large doses. And if they had not known that he was 
vain of this speech, (any thing but a wonderful speech, it 
seems to me, if a good child had made it,) they would not 
have been at such great pains to repeat it. I fancy I see 
them all on the sea-shore together; the king's chair sinking 
in the sand ; the king in a mighty good humor with his own 
wisdom; and the courtiers pretending to be quite stunned 
by it ! 

It is not the sea alone that is bidden to go " thus far, and 
no farther." The great command goes forth to all the kings 
tipon the earth, and went to Canute in the year one thou- 
sand and thirty- five, and stretched him dead upon his bed. 
Beside it stood his Norman wife. Perhaps, as the king 
looked his last upon her, he who had often thought distrust- 
fully of Normandy long ago thought once more of the two 
exiled princes in their uncle's court, and of the little favor 
they could feel for either Danes or Saxons, and of a rising 
cloud in Normandy that slowly moved toward England. 

Charles Dickens. 



The Norman Conquest. 51 



VII. 

THE NORMAN CONQUEST. 

[The two sons of Canute, Hatefoot and Hardicanute, ruled and rioted a 
short time, and then Edward the Confessor, miscalled a Saxon, really a 
Norman, in education and sympathy, came to the throne. In the reign 
of Ethelred the Unready had arisen a man who was English in eveiy in- 
stinct — Eai-1 Godwin. He became the first counselor, son-in-law, of 
Canute, and his power extended into and conti'olled the reign of the Con- 
fessor, making it English in spite of its head and his Norman relatives and 
courtiers. Upon Godwin's death, Harold, his son, took up England's 
burden, and, upon the death of Edward the Confessor, became its elected 
king. William, duke of Normandy, claimed the crown by will of the late 
king. In the probate of this will, by the sword, Harold laid down his 
life — the last of the Old English kings.] 

The two men who were thus arrayed in deadly opposition to 
each other were not unworthy of being competitors for a 
crown. Harold belonged to the greatest Saxon family of his 
time, of which he had been the head ever since the death of 
his father, the great Earl Godwin, which took place in 1053. 
Earl Godwin was one of the foremost men of the ante- 
Norman period of England, though his character, as Mr. St. 
John observes, "lies buried beneath a load of calumny; " 
and he quotes Dr. Hook as saying that " Godwin was the 
connecting link between the Saxon and the Dane, and, as the 
leader of the united English people, became one of the 
greatest men this country has ever produced, although, as is 
the English custom, one of the most maligned." "Calm, 
moderate, and dignified, reining in with wisdom the impetu- 
osity of his nature," says Mr. St. John, " he presented to those 
around him the beau ideal of an Englishman, with all his pre- 
dilections and prejudices, the warmest attachment to his 
native land, and a somewhat overweening contempt of for- 
eigners. He was without question the greatest statesman of 
his age ; and, indeed, statesmanship in England may almost 
be said to have commenced with him. Whether we look 



52 Pictures from English History. 

at home or abroad, we discover no man in Christendom 
worthy to be ranked with him, in genius or wisdom, in peace 
or war. His figure towers 'far above all his contemporaries ; 
he constitutes the acme of the purely Saxon mind. No taint 
of foreign blood was in him. . . . Godwin's lot was cast 
upon evil days. The marriage of Ethelred with Emma 
originated a fatal connection between this country and Nor- 
mandy, the first fruits of which, forcing themselves but too 
obviously on his notice, he prevented, while he lived, from 
growing to maturity. The efforts, public and secret, which 
he found it necessary to make in the performance of this 
patriotic task, laid him open to the charge of craft and sub- 
tlety. Let it be granted that he deserved the imputation; 
but it must be added that, if foreign invasion and conquest 
be an evil, from that evil England was preserved as long as 
his crafty and subtle head remained above ground ; and had 
he lived thirteen years longer, the accumulated and concen- 
trated scoundrelism of Europe would have been dashed away 
in foam and blood from the English shore. Properly under- 
stood, Godwin's whole life was one protracted agony for the 
salvation of his country. He had to contend with every 
species of deleterious influence — ferocious, drunken, disso- 
lute, and imbecile kings, the reckless intrigues of monasticism 
at the instigation of Rome, and the unprincipled and in- 
famous ambition of the Norman Bastard, who crept into En- 
gland during this great man's exile, and fled in all haste at 
his return. What he had to contend with, what plots he 
frustrated, what malice he counteracted, what superstition 
and stupidity he rendered harmless, will never be known in 
detail. We perceive the indefinite and indistinct forms of 
these things floating through the mists of history, but cannot 
grasp and fix them for the instruction of posterity." 

This portraiture may be somewhat too highly colored, but 
it is better'*''painting than we get from Norman writers, who 
were no more capable of writing justly of Godwin and 



The Norman Conquest. 53 

Harold than Roman authors of Hannibal and Spartacus. 
Godwin was an abler man than his son and successor, and 
probably the latter would never have been able to aspire to 
royalty, and for a few months to wear a crown, had not the 
fortunes of his house been raised so high by his father. 
Nevertheless, Harold was worthy of his inheritance, and pos- 
sessed rare qualities, such as made him not undeserving a 
throne, and of better fortune than he found at Hastings. He 
was patriotic, magnanimous, brave, humane, honorable, and 
energetic. His chief fault seems to have been a deficiency 
in judgment, which led him rashly to engage in undertakings 
that might better have been deferred. Such, at least, is the 
impression that we derive from his fighting the battle of 
Hastings when he had every thing to gain from delay, and 
when every day that an action was postponed was as useful 
to the Saxon cause as it was injurious to that of the Nor- 
mans. 

Harold's rival was the illegitimate son of Robert the Devil, 
as he is commonly called, because he has been, though im- 
properly, "identified with a certain imaginary or legendary 
hero," but who was a much better man than his diabolical 
sohi'iqnet implies. William's mother was Arietta, or Herleva, 
daughter of a tanner of Falaise. The Conqueror never 
escaped the reproach of his birth, into which bastardy and 
plebeianism entered in equal proportions. He was always 
" William the Bastard," and he is so to this day. "William 
the Conqueror," says Palgrave, "the founder of the most 
noble empire in the civilized world, could never rid himself 
of the contumelious appellation which bore indelible record 
of his father's sin. In all history, William is the only indi- 
vidual to whom such an epithet has adhered throughout his 
life and fortunes. . . . Nevertheless, and in spite of his il- 
legitimacy, William became ruler of Normandy when he was 
but a child, his father abdicating the throne, and forcing the 
Norman baronage to accept the boy as his successor; and 



54 Pictures from English History. 

that boy, thirty years later, founded a royal line that yet en- 
dures in full strength, Queen Victoria being the legitimate 
descendant of William of Normandy. The training that Will- 
iam received developed his faculties, and made him one of 
the chief men of his age ; and in 1066 he prepared to assert 
his right to the English crown. 

The Norman barons were at first disinclined to support 
their lord's claim upon England. Their tenures did not bind 
them to cross the ocean. But at last they were won oyer to 
the support of his cause, on the promise of receiving the 
lands of the English. He. called upon foreigners to join his 
army, promising them the plunder of England. " All the 
adventurers and adventurous spirits of the neighboring states 
were invited to join his standard," and his invitation was ac- 
cepted. "William published his ban," says Thierry, "in the 
neighboring countries ; he offered gold and the pillage of 
England to every able man who would serve him with lance, 
sv/ord, or cross-bow. A multitude accepted the invitation, 
coming by every road, far and near, from north and south. 
They came from Maine and Anjou, from Poitiers and Brit- 
tany, from France and Flanders, from Aquitaine and Bur- 
gundy, from the Alps and the banks of the Rhine. All the 
professional adventurers, all the military vagabonds of West- 
ern Europe, hastened to Normandy by long marches; some 
were knights and chiefs of war, the others simple foot-soldiers 
and sergeants-of-arms, as they were then called ; some de- 
manded money-pay, others only their passage and all the 
booty they might win. Some asked for land in England, a 
domain, a castle, a town ; others simply required some rich 
Saxon in marriage. Every thought, every desire of human 
avarice presented itself William rejected no one, says the 
Norman chronicle, and satisfied every one as well as he 
could. He gave, beforehand, a bishopric in England to a 
monk of Fescamp, in return for a vessel and twenty armed 
men." The pope was William's chief supporter. Harold 



The Norman Conquest. 55 

and all his adherents were excommunicated, and William re- 
ceived a banner and a ring from Rome, the double emblem 
of military and ecclesiastical investiture. Of the sixty thou- 
sand men that formed the Norman army, Normans formed 
the smallest portion, and most of their number were not of 
noble birth. 

William sailed on the 28th of September, and landed his 
army on the 29th, without experiencing any resistance. 
Harold was in the north, contending with and defeating the 
Northmen, one of whose leaders was his brother Tostig. As 
soon as he received intelligence of William's landing he. 
marched south, bent upon giving immediate battle, though 
his mother and his brother, Gurth, and other relatives, and 
many of his friends, strongly counseled delay. This coun- 
sel was good, for his force was to William's as one to four; 
and even a week's delay might have so far strengthened the 
Saxons as to have enabled them to fight on an approach to 
equal terms with the invaders. But Harold rejected all ad- 
vice, and pressed forward to action so imprudently as to 
countenance, in a superstitious age, the notion that he was 
urged on by an irresistible power, which had decreed his 
destruction. Certainly he did not display much sagacity be- 
fore battle, though both skill and bravery in it were not 
wanting on his part. 

The battle of Hastings was fought on the r4th of October, 
1066. The Normans were the assailants ; but for six hours 
— from nine in the morning till three in the afternoon — they 
were repulsed; and had the Saxons been content to hold 
their ground, victory would have been theirs. But they left 
the position they had so valiantly maintained, to pursue the 
Normans, when the latter feigned to fly. Even then they 
fought with heroic resolution, and might have regained the 
day, had not Harold fallen. Soon after, the English posi- 
tion was stormed, and the king's brother, Gurth, was slain. 
The combat lasted till the coming on of darkness. Fifteen 



56 Pictures from English History. 

thousand of the victors are said to have fallen — a number as 
great as the entire English army. 

The issue of the battle of Hastings determined the course 
of English history; and when we observe how influential has 
been the part of England ever since it was fought, and bear 
in mind that the English race, great as it is, can scarcely be 
said to have got beyond the morning-time of its existence, 
we find it difficult to exaggerate the importance of a conflict 
by which its career for eight hundred years has been deeply 
and permanently colored. There is not a great event in 
English or American annals which is not directly traceable 
to what was done in the year 1066 by that buccaneering band 
which William the Bastard led from Normandy to England 
to enforce a claim that had neither a legal nor a moral foun- 
dation, and which never could have been established had 
Harold's conduct been equal to his valor, and had fortune 
favored the just cause. The sympathies of every fair-minded 
reader of the story of the Conquest must be with the Saxons ; 
and yet it is impossible to deny that the event at Hastings 
was well for the world. It is with Harold as it is with Han- 
nibal : our feelings are at war with our judgment as we read 
their histories. . . . But '' cool reflection " leads to other 
conclusions, and justifies the earthly course of Providence, 
against which we are so often disposed to complain. There 
can be no doubt, in the mind of any moral man, that the in- 
vasion of England by Duke William was a wicked proceed- 
ing ; but it is not the less true that much good came from 
William's action, and that nearly all that is excellent in En- 
glish and American history is the fruit of that action. The 
part that England has had in the world's course for eight 
centuries, including her stupendous work of colonization, is 
second to nothing that has been done by any nation, not 
even to the doings of the Roman republic ; and to that part 
Saxon England never could have been equal. 

The battle of Hastings, therefore, was decisive of the future 



The Norman Conquest. 57 

of England and of the British race. Saxon England disap- 
peared. Norman England rose. The change was perfect, 
and quite warrants Lord Macaulay's emphatic assertion, that 
" the battle of Hastings, and the events which followed it, 
not only placed a duke of Normandy on the English throne, 
but gave up the whole population of England to the tyranny 
of the Norman race," and that " the subjugation of a nation 
by a nation has seldom, even in Asia, been more complete." 
The nation that finally was formed by a union of the Saxons 
and the Normans, and which was seven or eight generations 
in forming, was a very different nation from that which had 
been ruled by the Confessor. It was a nation that was ca- 
pable of every form of action, and had little in common with 
the Saxons of the eleventh century. It matters nothing 
whether the Conqueror introduced the feudal system into 
England, or whether he found it there, or whether that sys- 
tem is almost entirely an imaginary creation, as most prob- 
ably is the fact. We know that the event called the Norman 
Conquest wrought great changes in England, and, through 
England, in the world. It is possible that the misery con- 
sequent on the victory of the Normans has been exaggerated, 
though a great deal of suffering must have followed from it. 
But there can be no exaggeration of the general consequence 
of the success of the Normans. That determined the future 
course of the world, and will continue to determine it long 
after the Valley of the Amazon shall be far more thickly in- 
habited, and better known, than to-day is the Valley of the 
Danube. 

There is one popular error with regard to the Norman 
Conquest which it may not be amiss to correct. It is taken 
for granted by most persons who have written on it that the 
triumph of William was the triumph of an aristocracy over a 
people, and we often hear the Saxons spoken of as demo- 
crats who were subdued by aristocrats. This is an entirely 

erroneous view of the whole subject. So far as there was a 
3* 



58 Pictures from English History. 

contest at Hastings between aristocrats and democrats, the 
Normans were champions of democracy, and the Saxons of 
the opposite principle. The Saxon aristocracy was very 
powerful, and its power was steadily increasing for genera- 
tions before the Conquest ; and had there not been a foreign 
invasion, it is altogether probable that the English system 
soon would have become strictly oligarchical. One of the 
chief causes of Harold's failure was his inability to com- 
mand the prompt support of some of the greatest nobles, as 
Earls Edwin and Morcar, who paid bitterly for their back- 
wardness in after days. Something of this may be attributed 
to the weakness of his title to the crown, but the mere fact 
that such men could so powerfully influence events at a time 
when the very existence of the country was at stake, is enough 
to show how strong were the insular aristocrats; and it was 
this selfish aristocracy that was destroyed by the Normans, 
most of whom were upstarts, the very scum of Europe hav- 
ing entered William's army. We doubt if ever there was a 
greater triumph effected by the poor and the lowly-born 
over the rich and the well-born than that which was gained 
at Hastings, though it required some years to make it com- 
plete, "According to the common report," says Sir F. Pal- 
grave, " sixty thousand knights received their fees, or rather 
their livings, to use the old expression, from the Conqueror. 
This report is exaggerated as to number ; but the race of 
the Anglo-Danish and English nobility and gentry, the earls 
and the greater thanes, disappears ; and, with some excep- 
tions, remarkable as exemplifying the general rule, all the 
superiorities of the English soil became vested in the Con- 
queror's baronage. Men of a new race and order, men of 
strange manners and strange speech, ruled in England. 
There were, however, some great mitigations, and the very 
sufferings of the conquered were so inflicted as to become 
the ultimate means of national prosperity ; but they were to 
be gone through, and to be attended with much present 



The Norman Conquest. 59 

desolation and misery. The process was the more painful 
because it was now accompanied by so much degradation 
and contumely. The Anglo-Saxons seem to have had a very 
strong aristocratic feeling — a great respect for family and 
dignity of blood. The Normans, or rather the host of ad- 
venturers whom we must of necessity comprehend under the 
name of Normans, had comparatively little ; and not very 
many of the real old and powerful aristocracy, whether of 
Normandy or Brittany, settled in England. The great ma- 
jority had been rude and poor and despicable in their own 
country — the rascallions of Northern Gaul : these, suddenly 
enriched, lost all compass and bearing of mind ; and no one 
circumstance vexed the spirit of the English more than to 
see the fair and noble English maidens and widows com- 
pelled to accept these despicable adventurers as their hus- 
bands. 

The Saxons were very wealthy, and the invaders obtained 
an amount of spoil that astonished them, the accounts of 
which remind the reader of what was told of the extraordi- 
nary acquisitions made by the ruffians who formed the 
force of Pizarro in Peru. Years after the day of Hast= 
ings, we are told, William " bore back with him, to his eager 
and hungry country, the plunder of England, which was so 
varied in kind, so prodigious in amount, that the awe-stricken 
chroniclers maintain that all the Gauls, if ransacked from 
end to end, would have failed to supply treasures worthy to 
be compared with it. The silver, the gold, the vases, vest- 
ments, and crucifixes crested with jewels, the silken garments 
for men and women, the rings, necklaces, bracelets, wrought 
delicately in gold and resplendent in gems, inspired the Con- 
tinental barbarians with rapture, and in their imaginations 
made England appear the Dorado of those times." One of 
the writers of that day states that " incredible treasures in 
gold and silver were sent from the plunder of England to 
the pope, together with costly ornaments, which would have 



6o Pictures from English History. 

been held in the highest estimation even at Byzantium, then 
universally regarded as the most opulent city in the world." 
All this implies that the Saxon aristocracy were very rich, 
and it is far from unlikely that it was the desire to preserve 
their property that led them to offer so little resistance to 
William — a fatally mistaken course, for the invading advent- 
urers had entered England in search of other men's property, 
and were not to be k-ept quiet by the quietness of the owners 
thereof. The aristocracy alone could afford such plunder as 
that described, and that so much of it was obtained shows 
how extensive must have been the spoliation, and how 
thoroughly Saxon nobles were stripped of their possessions 
by the low-born ragamuffins who were induced by William's 
recruiting sergeants to enlist under his black banner. 

C. C. Hazewell, in Atlajitic Monthly. 



VIII. 

THE FIRST CRUSADE. 

[Upon the death of William I., his second son, William Rufus, seized 
the crown of England, regardless of the claims of his elder brother, Rob- 
ert. Constant quarrels and frequent wars between the brothers for this 
contested right marked this reign. Rufus' rule was tyrannical and op- 
pressive to his people also. In 1096 a new calling came to Robert in the 
First Crusade — the most remarkable event of this reign — and he mort- 
gaged his dukedom of Normandy to Rufus for money for that expedition.] 

The mortgage of Normandy to William was connected with 
one of the most wonderful stirrings of the human heart that 
has been recorded in the history of mankind. The money 
of which William stripped his people, to pay the stipulated 
price to Robert for the surrender of his dominions — to raise 
which he even compelled the Churchmen to bring to him 
their golden shrines and silver chalices — this price was 



The First Crusade, 6i 

nothing compared with the property that was devoted by the 
people of Europe for the recovery of Jerusalem from the in- 
fidels. " Whatever was stored in granaries or hoarded in 
chambers," says Malmesbury, " all was deserted." Robert 
of Normandy was one of the leaders of the First Crusade. 
" It was one of those events," writes Guizot, "which change 
the condition of the people." 

It is recorded that, on the night of the 4th of April, 1095, 
Gilbert, bishop of Lisieux, in Normandy, who had been 
chaplain and physician to William the Conqueror, observing 
that remarkable phenomenon of innumerable falling stars 
which is now familiar to us at particular seasons, interpreted 
the appearance as a portent of an immense emigration of 
people from one country to another, from which tney would 
never return till the stars came back to their place in the 
heavens. In November of the same year Pope Urban II. 
attended the great Council of Clermont, in Auvergne ; and 
from a lofty scaffold in the market-place of Clermont 
preached the Crusade to assembled thousands. A vast mul- 
titude had arrived from all the surrounding districts — 
princes, bishops, nobles, knights, priests, burgesses, and rus- 
tics. For a zealous missionary had gone through Italy and 
France, and had proclaimed in every land that the Holy 
Sepulcher, which Christian pilgrims had freely visited from 
the days of Haroun Alraschid, was now closed against them 
by the Turks, who had conquered Syria ; and that the serv- 
ants of the cross were massacred, plundered, sold into slavery. 
This was Peter of Amiens, known as Peter the Hermit. It 
was in the power of this man, mean of person, but gifted with 
that eloquence which is more potent than any physical su- 
periority, to rouse a spirit in prince and people which had the 
character of universality. 

Before this time there was no common bond among the 
Christian communities of Europe — no prevailing sentiment 
which could unite the governments, and still less the people, 



62 Pictures from English History. 

in any general course of action. The extension of the Mo- 
hammedan empire was dreaded; but no state was strong 
enough to encounter the danger single-handed ; and no con- 
federacy of states could be constructed amid the jealousies 
and hatreds of their ambitious rulers. Not only was any 
political unity impossible among many nations, but a common 
political sentiment was equally impossible among the classes 
of any one nation. But a vast European confederation for 
obtaining the freedom of Christian worship in the land which 
the Redeemer and his apostles had trodden was an idea that 
seized upon the minds of men in all countries and of all 
classes with a force which those only cannot comprehend 
who measure the character of a past age by the principles 
and feelings of their own age. When Pope Urban, from his 
lofty platform in the market-place of Clermont, called out to 
the chieftains and warriors, " Go, and employ, in nobler 
warfare, that valor and that sagacity which you have been 
used to waste in civil broils," he addressed himself to that 
love of excitement which, as much as the love of plunder, 
had called forth the lord from the monotony of his solitary 
castle, gladly to encounter the perils of " civil broils," rather 
than to dream away his life in wearisome idleness. None of 
the resources of modern society could give a relish to the 
existence of the feudal chief. The chase and the carousal, 
day by day, and year by year — the same priest at the mass ; 
the same wife at the distaff; the same jester at the banquet 
■ — no books, no intelligent converse, no regular communica- 
tion with the surrounding world, no care for the education 
of children, no solicitude for the welfare of dependents — a 
dark tower for a dwelling, with neighbors whom he despised 
and persecuted — this was an existence for the lord of many 
manors, that those who command the humblest of the mani- 
fold conveniences and pleasures of modern times need not 
envy. The prospect of visiting far-off and famous lands ; of 
fighting against heathen miscreants ; of returning with wealth 



The First Crusade. 6;^ 

and glory, or of dying in the assured hope of felicity, made 
the Crusade as welcome to the feudal lord as the gayest 
tournament. 

Nor was it less welcome to those whom Urban addressed, 
not as leaders in the enterprise, but as humble followers : 
" Let no love of relations detain you ; for man's chiefest love 
is toward God. Let no attachment to your native soil be an 
impediment ; because, in different points of view, all the 
world is exile to the Christian and all the world his country." 
Attachment to his native soil would scarcely be an impedi- 
ment to the lord's humble vassal ; for the produce of the soil 
was scanty, and what he reaped he could rarely gather into 
his own homestead. If he could find another country where 
the prince would not rob the lord, and the lord would not 
grind the tenant — where the earth ripened her fruits beneath 
warmer suns, and man required less sustenance to be earned 
by unremitting labor — there would he gladly go. The 
burgher, who crouched under the hill-castle of the proud 
earl, and did his servile work of smith-craft or carpentry, 
with small pay and heavy dues, would dream of a land where 
ignorant misbelievers lived in glorious mansions, rich with all 
the wealth of the East — for so the pilgrims told of the Asiatic 
cities — and that wealth might be his. The foot-soldier, before 
whom the mounted men — the favored of the earls — looked 
with contempt, would warm into a hero when the pope spake 
of the Turks, who fought at a distance with poisoned arrows 
— the thin-blooded people, over whom the stalwart children 
of the West would make an easy conquest. To the feudal 
lord, to the tenant of his demesne, to the burgess of his 
town, to the common soldier who watched upon his ramparts, 
the Crusade would offer the strongest incentive to the 
worldly-minded as well as to the enthusiastic. The mixture 
of motives made every crusader more or less alive to the 
higher influences. If wealth was not to be won, and new 
homes were not to be conquered, there were unearthly 



64 Pictures from English History. 

mansions prepared for the soldiers of the cross. With one 
voice, therefore, the people in the market-place of Clermont 
shouted, '''Dens lo volt; Deus lo volt." " It is, indeed, the will 
of God," said the pope. "Let that acclamation be your 
battle-cry. Wear the cross as your sign and your solemn 
pledge." 

The great army of the East was to be gathered together 
from all nations by another year. But the impatience of the 
people would not wait for arms or leaders. In the March of 
1096 a vast multitude set forward from France, gathering 
fresh crowds as they proceeded. The wonderful scenes of 
that year have been described by eye-witnesses. The peas- 
ant shod his oxen like horses, and, yoking them to a cart, 
migrated with his wife and children ; and the children, when- 
ever they approached a town, cried out, " Is this Jerusa- 
lem .? " Lands were abandoned. Houses and chattels were 
sold for ready money by townsmen and husbandmen. The 
passion to reach Jerusalem extinguished all ordinary love of 
gain, and absorbed every other motive for exertion. Where 
Jerusalem was situate was to many a mystery. It was a far- 
distant land which a few pious and adventurous spirits had 
attained by difficult paths, over mountains and through des- 
erts, and had returned to tell of its wonders and its dangers. 
It was a land where the fierce heathen kept possession of the 
holy seats which they despised, and where impure rites and 
demoniacal enchantments polluted the birthplace of the one 
true religion. The desire to see that land, if not to possess 
it, went through the most remote parts of Christian Europe.. 

Wales, Scotland, Denmark, and Norway sent out their 
thousands to join the great body that were moving on to the 
Rhine and the Danube. As they passed through the popu- 
lous cities of Germany the spirit of fanatical hatred which 
belonged to that age incited the multitude to pillage and 
massacre the Jews ; and the best protectors of the unhappy 
race were the Christian bishops. This irregular host reached 



The First Crusade. 65 

the frontiers of Austria, and then had to traverse the vast 
forests and morasses of Hungary and Bulgaria. Undisci- 
plined, ill-provided, encumbered with women and children, 
their numbers had gradually been wasted by hunger and 
fatigue. They were led in two divisions, one of which was 
commanded by Peter the Hermit, the other by a soldier 
named Walter the Penniless. They irritated the inhabitants 
of the wild countries through which they passed, and suifered 
the most terrible defeats in Bulgaria. These were not the 
warlike bands that followed, under renowned and able lead- 
ers, in all the pomp and power of chivalry. In this irregu- 
lar army there were only eight horsemen to fifteen thousand 
foot. At last the remnant of the hundred thousand that had 
undertaken this perilous journey reached Constantinople. 
The emperor would have treated them with kindness, but 
they began to plunder the beautiful city, and they were 
driven out to seek the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus. They 
here renewed their devastations, uncontrolled by any respect 
for their leader, Walter, or any care for their own safety ; 
and they were finally routed and cut to pieces by the Turks. 
The regular army of the crusaders at length approached 
Asia under the commanders whom history and poetry have 
made famous — Godfrey of Bouillon, Hugh of Vermamdois, 
Robert of Normandy, Robert of Flanders, Stephen of Char- 
tres, Raymond of Toulouse, the ambitious Bohemond, and 
the accomplished Tancred. They came by different routes 
from their several countries. The history of their progress 
belongs not to our narrative. It was more than three years 
after Pope Urban had preached the crusade at Clermont that 
Jerusalem fell, and the Holy Sepulcher was free. A terrible 
massacre disgraced this Christian triumph ; and while the 
merciless conquerors knelt upon the sacred earth, they 
showed how little they comprehended the spirit of the relig- 
ion whose sign they bore in that great warfare. But it is not 
the crimes of the fanatical warriors who won the Holy Land, 



66 Pictures from English History. 

nor the rashness of the ignorant multitudes who preceded 
them, that should lead us to speak of the Crusades " as the 
most signal and most durable monument of human folly that 
has ever yet appeared in any age or nation." One who 
looks upon history with a more extended range of vision has 
pointed out that " the Crusades were the continuation, the 
zenith, of the grand struggle which had been going on for 
four centuries between Christianity and Mohammedanism." 
Like all other great struggles of principle, they produced the 
most enduring influences upon the destinies of mankind ; 
and, marked as was their course by the display of many evil 
passions and many dangerous illusions, their tendency was 
to elevate the character of European life, and to prepare the 
way for the ultimate triumph of mental freedom and equal 
government. Charles Knight. 



IX. 

THE CIVIL WARS OF STEPHEN AND MATILDA. 

[On the death of Henry I., Stephen, count of Blois, grandson of William 
the Conqueror and nephew of the late king, seized the crown, notwith- 
standing that Henry had willed it to his daughter Matilda, and imposed 
on all his nobles an oath to support her succession. Stephen soon found 
some of his Norman subjects in England refractory, and, worse than that, 
quarreled with the bishops and the pope, and laid heavy hands on the 
Church possessions in England. The enemies of Stephen soon invited 
Matilda to England to try for the crown, and the civil wars were begun.] 

Having been invited into England by her friends, Matilda 
disembarked on the 226. of September, in the year 1139, 
threw herself into Arundel Castle, on the coast of Sussex, 
and from thence reached Bristol Castle, which was held by 
her illegitimate brother, Robert, earl of Gloucester. At the 
news of the arrival of the pretendress, many secret discon- 



The Civil Wars of Stephen and Matilda. 67 

tents and intrigues came to light. The greater part of the 
nobles of the north and west made a solemn renunciation of 
their homage and allegiance to Stephen of Blois, and re- 
newed the oath that they had taken to the daughter of King 
Henry. The whole Norman race in England seemed to 
have been divided, in one moment, into two factions, who 
regarded each other with defiance, before coming to an en- 
gagement. " Suspicion," says the historian of that time, 
" was roused in the breast of each man, even of his neigh- 
bor, his friend, or his brother." 

Fresh bands of Biabanion soldiers, engaged by one or 
other of the rival parties, came with arms and baggage, by 
different ports and various roads, to the gathering points 
fixed by the king or by Matilda ; each side promised them, 
for their pay, the lands of the opposite faction. In order to 
bear the costs of this civil war the Normans sold and under- 
sold their domains, their villages, and their townships, to- 
gether with the inhabitants and their possessions. Several of 
them made incursions on the domains of their adversaries, 
and carried off the horses, the oxen, the sheep, and the En- 
glish, whom they seized even in the villages, and took away 
in chains. The general terror was such, that if the inhabit- 
ants of any city or town saw three or four horsemen ap- 
proaching in the distance, they immediately took flight. 

This extreme alarm arose from the horrible reports which 
were spread of the fate of the men whom the Normans had 
seized and imprisoned in their castles. " They carried off," 
says the Saxon chronicle, " all who they thought possessed 
any property, men and women, by day and by night ; and 
while they kept them imprisoned, they inflicted on them tor- 
tures, such as no martyr ever underwent, in order to obtain 
gold and silver from them. Some were suspended by their 
feet, their heads hanging over smoke ; others were hung by 
their thumbs, with fire under their feet ; they pressed the 
heads of some with a cord, so tight as to force in the skull ; 



68 Pictures from English History. 

others were thrown into pits full of snakes, toads, and all 
kinds of reptiles ; others were placed in the chambre-a-cruciry 
the name that was given, in the Norman language, to a short, 
narrow kind of chest, very shallow, and lined with siiarp 
stones, in which the sufferer Ayas pressed until his limbs were 
all dislocated. 

" In inost of the castles they kept a set of chains so heavy 
that two or three men could hardly lift them ; the unhappy 
being upon whom they were laid was held up by an iron 
collar fixed in a post, and could neither sit, lie down, nor 
sleep. They killed many thousands of persons by hunger. 
They imposed tribute after tribute upon the towns and vil- 
lages, calling this, in their tongue, tensei'-ie. When the citizens 
had nothing more to give them ihey plundered and burned 
their town. You might have traveled a whole day without 
finding a single soul in the towns, or a cultivated field. The 
poor died of hunger, and those who had formerly been well- 
off now begged their bread from door to door. Whoever had 
it in his power to leave England did so. Never was a coun- 
try delivered up to so many miseries and misfortunes ; even 
in the invasion of the pagans it suffered less than now. 
Neither the cemeteries nor the churches were spared; they 
seized all they could, and then set fire to the church. To till 
the ground was useless. It was openly reported that Christ 
and his saints were sleeping." 

The greatest terror reigned in the environs of Bristol, where 
the Empress Matilda and her Angevins had established their 
head-quarters. All the day through there were being brought 
into the town men bound and gagged, either with a piece of 
wood or with a notched iron bit. There as constantly went 
out troops of soldiers in disguise, who, concealing their arms 
and their language under the English habit, scattered them- 
selves over the populous districts, and mixed with the crowd 
in the markets and in the streets; suddenly they would seize 
any one who seemed from their appearance to be in easy 



The Civil Wars of Stephen and Matilda. 69 

circumstances, and carry them to their head-quarters to set 
a ransom on them. King Stephen led his army first against 
Bristol ; this town, which was strong and well-defended, re- 
sisted the royal army, and the soldiers, in revenge, devas- 
tated and burnt the environs. The king then attacked, one 
by one, and with more success, the Norman castles situated 
on the borders of Wales, nearly all the lords of which had 
declared against him. 

While he was engaged in this long and harassing war an 
insurrection broke out on the eastern side ; the fens of Ely, 
which had served as a refuge to the last of the free Saxons, 
became a camp for the Normans of the Anjou faction. 
Baldwin de Revier and Lenoir, bishop of Ely, raised in- 
trenchments of stone and cement against Stephen, in the 
very place where Hereward had erected a fort of wood 
against King William. This locality, always formidable to 
the Norman authorities on account of the facilities which it 
afforded for union and defense, had been placed by Henry I, 
under the control of a bishop, who was to aid the count and 
viscount in their superintendence of the province. The first 
bishop of the new diocese of Ely was that Herve whom the 
Welsh had expelled from Bangor; the second was Lenoir, 
or Nigel, who frustrated the great conspiracy of the English 
in 1 137. It was not for any personal zeal for King Stephen, 
but in a spirit of patriotism, as a Norman, that he then served 
the king against the Saxons, and as soon as the Normans de- 
clared against Stephen, Lenoir joined them, and undertook 
to make the islands in his diocese a gathering-place for Ma- 
tilda's partisans. 

Stephen attacked his enemies in this camp, in the same 
manner that the Conqueror had formerly attacked the Saxon 
refugees in that place. He constructed bridges of boats, 
over which his cavalry passed, and completely routed the 
soldiers of Baldwin of Reviers and Bishop Lenoir. The 
bishop fled to Gloucester, where the daughter of Henry I. 



70 Pictures from English History. 

then was, with her principal adherents. All her party in the 
west, encouraged by the king's absence, repaired the breaches 
in their castles; or, converting the towers of the great 
churches into fortresses, filled them with engines of war ; 
they dug trenches round, in the church-yards even, so that the 
corpses were uncovered and the bones of the dead scattered 
about. The Norman bishops did not scruple to take part in 
these military operations ; nor were they less active than 
others in torturing the English to extract ransom from them. 
They were seen, as in the first years of the conquest, mounted 
on war-horses, completely armed, with a lance or baton in 
their hands, superintending the works and the attacks, or 
drawing lots for a share of the booty. 

The bishops of Chester and of Lincoln distinguished them- 
selves among the most warlike. The latter rallied the 
troops dispersed at the camp of Ely, and formed another 
army in the eastern coast, which King Stephen attacked, but 
with less success than the first ; his troops, victorious at Ely, 
were routed near Lincoln ; abandoned by all around him, the 
king defended himself single-handed for some time, but was 
at last obliged to surrender; he was taken to Gloucester, the 
quarters of the Countess of Anjou, who, by the advice of her 
council of war, had him imprisoned in the dungeon of Bristol 
Castle. This defeat was a death-blow to the royal cause. 
Stephen's Norman partisans, seeing him vanquished and a 
captive, went over in crowds to Matilda's side. His own 
brother, Henry, bishop of Winchester, declared for the 
victorious faction ; and the Saxon peasants, who detested 
both parties equally, took advantage of the misfortunes of 
the conquered side to plunder and maltreat them in their 
rout. 

The granddaughter of the conqueror made her triumphal 
entry into Winchester ; Bishop Henry received her at the 
gates, at the head of the clergy of all the churches. She took 
possession of the regalia, as well as the treasure belonging to 



The Civil Wars of Stephen and Matilda. 71 

Stephen, and convoked a great council of Norman prelates, 
counts, barons, and knights. The assembly made Matilda 
queen, and the bishop who presided pronounced the follow- 
ing form : *' Having first, as is our duty, invoked the assist- 
ance of Almighty God, we elect as lady of England and Nor- 
mandy the daughter of the glorious, rich, good, and pacific 
King Henry, and promise to render her fealty and support." 
But Queen Matilda's good fortune soon made her disdainful 
and arrogant; she ceased to take the advice of her old 
friends, and treated harshly such of her adversaries who de- 
sired to be at peace with her. The authors of her elevation 
often met with a refusal to any request they might make, and 
if they bowed down before her, says an old historian, she did 
not rise to them. This conduct chilled the zeal of her most 
devoted adherents, and the greater number withdrew from 
her, without, however, declaring for the dethroned king, 
passively awaiting the final issue of events. 

From Winchester the new queen proceeded to London. 
She was the daughter of a Saxon, and the Saxon citizens, 
from a kind of national sympathy, regarded her presence in 
their city with greater favor than that of the king, who was of 
entirely foreign descent ; but the good-will of these men, en- 
slaved by the conquest, made little impression on the proud 
heart of the wife of the Count of Anjou, and her first notice 
of the people of London was the demand of an enormous 
poll-tax. The citizens, whom the devastations of war and 
Stephen's exactions had reduced to such a state of distress 
that they were in immediate fear of a famine, implored the 
queen to have pity on them, and to delay the imposition of 
fresh taxes until they were relieved from their present misery. 
" The king has left us nothing," the deputies of the citizens 
said to her, in a submissive tone. " I understand," replied 
the daughter of Henry I., with a disdainful air, "you have 
given all to my adversary, you have conspired witli him 
against me, and you expect me to spare you." The citizens 



72 Pictures from English History. 

of London being forced to pay the tax, took this opportunity 
of making a humble request to the queen. "Restore to us," 
was their demand, " the good laws of thy great uncle, Ed- 
ward, in the place of those of thy father, King Henry, which 
are bad and too harsh for us." But, as though she were 
ashamed of her maternal ancestors, and had abjured her 
Saxon descent, Matilda was enraged at this request, treated 
those who had thus dared to address her as if they had been 
guilty of the greatest insolence, and uttered terrible menaces 
against them. Wounded to the depths of the heart, but dis- 
sembling their vexation, the citizens returned to their hall of 
council, where the Normans, less suspicious than formerly, 
now allowed them to assemble, to arrange between them- 
selves, by common accord, the sharing of the taxes ; for the 
government had adopted the custom of levying a general tax 
on each town, without troubling themselves as to the mode 
in which the demand was met by individual contributors. 

Queen Matilda was awaiting in full security, either in the 
Conqueror's tower or in William Rufus' palace, at West- 
minster, the return of the citizen's deputies, to offer her on 
their knees the sacks of gold that she had demanded from- 
them, when suddenly the bells of the town sounded an alarm, 
and the streets and squares were filled with crowds of people. 
From each house sallied a man armed with the first warlike 
instrument on which he could lay his hand. An ancient 
writer compares the multitude which tumultuously gathered 
together to bees issuing from the hive. The queen and her 
Norman and Angevin men-at-arms, seeing themselves sur- 
rounded, and not daring to risk, in the narrow, crooked 
streets, a conflict in which superiority of arms and military 
science could be of no use to them, quickly mounted horse 
and fled. They had scarcely passed the last houses in the 
suburb, when a troop of English hastened to the apartments 
which they had inhabited, forced open the doors, and, not 
finding them there, plundered all that they had left. The 



The Civil Wars of Stephen and Matilda. 73 

queen galloped towards Oxford, with her barons and 
knights, who at intervals detached themselves, one by one, 
from the cortege, to make their escape with greater safety, 
alone, by cross-roads and by-ways. Matilda entered Oxford, 
accompanied by her brother, the Earl of Gloucester, and 
the small number of those v/ho had found this road the most 
convenient for themselves, or who had overlooked their own 
safety in consideration for hers. 

In fact, there was little danger ; for the inhabitants of Lon- 
don, satisfied with having chased the new queen of England 
from their walls, did not attempt to pursue her. Their in- 
surrection, the result of an outbreak of indignation, with no 
previously concerted plan, and unconnected with any other 
movement, was not the first step of a national insurrection. 
The expulsion of Matilda and her adherents did not turn to 
the advantage of the English people, but to that of Stephen's 
partisans. The latter quickly re-entered London, occupied 
the city, and filled it with their troops, under the pretense of 
an alliance with the citizens. The wife of the captive king 
repaired to London, and took up her quarters there; and 
all that the citizens then gained was the privilege of enlisting 
to the number of a thousand men, with casques and hau- 
berks, among the troops that assembled in the name of 
Stephen of Blois, and of serving as auxiliaries of the Nor- 
mans under William and Roger de la Chesnage. 

The Bishop of Winchester, seeing his brother's party re- 
gaining some strength, deserted the opposite side, and de- 
clared again for the prisoner at Bristol ; he set up Stephen's 
banner on Windsor Castle, and on his episcopal residence, 
which he had fortified and embattled like a castle. Robert 
of Gloucester and the partisans of Matilda came and laid 
siege to it. The garrison of the castle, built in the middle 
of the town, set fire to the houses to annoy the besiegers ; 
and, at the same time, the army of London, attacking them 

unawares, obliged them to take refuge in the churches, which 
4 



^4 Pictures from English History. 



were then set fire to, in order to drive them out. Robert of 
Gloucester was taken prisoner, and his followers dispersed. 
Barons and knights, throwing away their arms, and marching 
on foot, in order not to be recognized, traversed the towns 
and villages under false names. But besides the partisans 
of the king, who pressed them closely, they encountered 
other enemies on their road, the Saxon peasants and serfs, who 
were as remorseless to them in their defeat as they had for- 
merly been to the opposite faction. They arrested the prog- 
ress of these proud Normans, who, in spite of their attempts 
at disguise, were betrayed by their language, and drove them 
along with whips. The Bishop of Canterbury, some other 
bishops, and numbers of great lords were maltreated in this 
manner, and stripped of their clothing. Thus this war was 
to the English a cause both of misery and of joy, of that 
frantic joy which is experienced in the midst of suffering, by 
rendering evil for evil. The grandson of a man slain at 
Hastings would feel a moment's pleasure when he found the 
life of a Norman in his power, and the Englishwomen, who 
had plied the distaff in the service of the high Norman 
ladies, joyfully recounted the story of the sufferings of Queen 
Matilda on her departure from Oxford: how she fled, ac- 
companied only by three men-at-arms, in the night, on foot, 
through the snow, and how she had passed, in great alarm, 
close to the enemy's posts, hearing the voice of the sentinels, 
and the sound of the military signals. 

AuGUSTiN Thierry. 



The Assassination of Archbishop Becket. 75 
X. 

THE ASSASSINATION OF ARCHBISHOP BECKET. 

[Upon the accession of Henry II. he began the work of political re- 
form and the restoration of order and justice, so necessary after Stephen's 
chaotic reign. In this work he was assisted by a very able man, Thomas 
Becket, whom he made chancellor. To bring the clergy under civil law 
in criminal cases was one of Henry's reforms, in furtherance of which he 
made Becket Archbishop of Canterbury. But upon coming to the head 
of the English Church Becket opposed these changes, and long and bitter 
quarrels between him and the king ensued. This ended in the banish- 
ment of Becket, in a partial reconciliation, and his return to his see, when 
he again began reprisals on the friends of the king, who was at the time 
in Normandy.] 

The Archbishop of York, the two Bishops of London and 
Salisbury, being offended with his doings, sailed over into 
Normandy and there complained to King Henry of injuries 
done to them by Archbishop Thomas, grievously accusing 
him that he went about to take away their liberty of priest- 
hood, to destroy, corrupt, and finally to abolish both the 
laws of God and man, together with the ancient decrees and 
statutes of their elders ; insomuch that he took upon him to 
exclude bishops at his pleasure from the company of Chris- 
tian men, and so, being excluded, to banish them forever : to 
derogate things merely prejudicial to the king's royal pre- 
rogative ; and finally to take away from all men the equity 
of laws and civil orders. 

The king, giving ear to their complaint, was so displeased 
in his mind against Archbishop Thomas, that in open au- 
dience of his lords, knights, and gentlemen, he said these or 
the like words : " In what miserable state am I, that cannot 
be in rest within mine own realm, by reason of one only 
priest. Neither is there any of my folks that will help to 
deliver me out of such troubles." 

There were some that stood about the king which guessed 



76 Pictures from English History. 

by these words that his mind was to signify how he would 
have some man to dispatch the archbishop out of the way. 
The king's displeasure against the archbishop was known 
well enough, which caused men to have him in no reverence 
at all, so that (as it was said) he chanced on a time that 
he came to Stroud, in Kent, where the inhabitants meaning 
to do something to his infamy, being thus out of the king's 
favor and despised of the world, cut off his horse's tail. 

There were some also of the king's servants that thought 
after another manner of sort to revenge the displeasure done 
to the king's majesty, as Sir Hugh Morville, Sir William 
Tracy, Sir Richard Brito, and Sir Reginald Fitzurse, knights, 
who, taking advice together, and agreeing in one mind and 
will, took shipping and sailed over into England, landed at 
a place called Dogs-haven, near Dover. 

Now the first night they lodged in the castle of Saltwood, 
which Randolph de Broe had in keeping. The next morning 
being the 29th of December, and fifth day of Christmas, which 
as that year came about fell upon a Tuesday, having gotten 
together certain soldiers in the country thereabouts, came to 
Canterbury, and first entering into the court of the Abbey of 
St. Augustine, they talked with Clarenbald, the elect abbot 
of that place; and after conference had with him they 
proceeded in their business as followeth. 

The first knight, Sir Reginald Fitzurse, came to him about 
the eleventh hour of the day, as the archbishop sat in his 
chamber, and sitting down at his feet upon the ground with- 
out any manner of greeting or salutation, at length began 
with him thus : " Being sent of our sovereign lord the king 
from beyond the seas, we do here present unto you his grace's 
commandments, to wit, that you should go to his son the 
king, to do unto him that which appertaineth unto you to do 
unto your sovereign lord, and to do your fealty unto him in 
taking an oath, and further to amend that wherein you have 
offended his majesty." Whereunto the archbishop answered : 



The Assassination of Archbishop Becket. 77 

*' For what cause ought I to confirm my fealty unto him by 
oath ; or wherein am I guilty in offending the king's maj- 
esty ? " Sir Reginald said : " For your barony, fealty is de- 
manded of you with an oath, and another oath is required 
of those clerks which you have brought with you, if they 
mean to continue within the land." The archbishop an- 
swered : " For my barony I am ready to do to the king 
whatsoever law or reason shall allow : but let him for certain 
hold that he shall not get any oath either of me or of my 
clerks." "We knew that," said the knight, " that you would 
not do any of these things which we proposed unto you. 
Moreover, the king commandeth you to absolve those bishops 
that are excommunicated by you without his license." 
Whereunto he said : " The bishops are excommunicated, not 
by me, but by the pope, who hath thereto authority from the 
Lord. If, indeed, he hath revenged the injury done to my 
Church, I confess that I am not displeased therewith." 
"' Then," said the knight, *' sith that such things in despite 
of the king do please you, it is to be thought that you would 
take from him his crown, and be called and taken for king 
yourself, but you shall miss of your purpose surely therein." 
The archbishop answered : " I do not aspire to the name of 
a king ; rather would I knit three crowns unto his crown if it 
lay in my power." 

At length, after these and such words, the knights, turn- 
ing them to the monks, said, " In the behalf of our sovereign 
lord the king, we command you, that in any wise ye keep 
this man safe, and present him to the king when it shall please 
his grace to send for him." The archbishop said, " Do ye 
think that I will run away ; I came not to run away, but to 
look for the outrage and malice of wicked men." " Truly," 
said they, " you shall not run away," and herewith went out 
with noise and threatenings. Then Master John of Salisbury, 
his chancellor, said unto him : " My lord, this is a wonderful 
matter that you will take no man's counsel ; had it not been 



78 Pictures from English History. 



meet to have given them a more meek and gentle answer ? " 
But the archbishop said, " Surely I have already taken all the 
counsel that I will take. I know what I ought to do." 
Then said Salisbury, " I pray God it may be good." Now 
the knights departing out of the place, and going about to 
put on their armor, certain came to the archbishop and 
said, " My lord, they arm themselves." "What forceth it," 
said he, " let them arm themselves." 

Now when they were armed, and many other about them, 
they entered into the archbishop's palace. Those that were 
about the archbishop cried upon him to flee, but he sat still 
and would not once remove, till the monks brought him even 
by force and against his will into the church. The coming 
of the armed men being known, some of the monks continued 
singing of even song, and some sought places where to hide 
themselves, other came to the archbishop, who was loth to 
have entered into the church, and when he was within he 
•would not yet suffer them to make fast the doors, so that 
there was a great stir among them, but chiefly when they per- 
ceived that the armed men went about to seek for the 
archbishop, by mean whereof their even song was left 
unfinished. 

At length the knights with their servants, having sought 
the palace, came rushing into the church by the cloister door 
with their swords drawn, some of them asking for the trai- 
tor, and some of them for the archbishop, who came and 
met them, saying, " Here am I, no traitor, but the arch- 
bishop." The foremost of the knights said unto him, "Flee, 
thou art but dead." To whom the archbishop said, " I will 
not flee." The knight stepped to him, taking him by the 
sleeve, and with his sword cast his cap beside his head, and 
said, " Come hither, for thou art a prisoner." " I will not," 
said the archbishop; " do with me here what thou wilt," and 
plucked his sleeve with a mighty strength out of the knight's 
hand. Wherewith the knight stepped back two or three 



The Assassination of Archbishop Becket. 79 

paces. Then the archbishop, turning to one of the knights, 
said to him, "What meaneth this, Reginald? I have done 
unto thee many great pleasures, and comest thou now unto 
me into the church armed ? " Unto whom the knight pres- 
ently answered and said, " Thou shalt know anon what is 
meant, thou art but dead ; it is not possible for thee any longer 
to live." Unto whom the archbishop answered, " I am ready 
to die for my God, and for the defense of his justice and 
the liberty of the Church ; gladly do I embrace death, so that 
the Church may purchase peace and liberty by the shedding 
of my blood." And herewith taking another of the knights 
by the habergeon, he flung him from him with such violence 
that he had almost thrown him down to the ground. This 
was Sir Will. Tracy, as he after confessed. 

Then the archbishop inclined his head after the manner 
of one that would pray,, pronouncing these his last words: 
" To God, to St. Mary, and to the saints that are patrons of 
this church, and to St. Denis, I commend myself and the 
Church's cause." Therewith Sir Reginald Fitzurse striking 
a full blow at his head, chanced to light upon the arm of a 
clerk named Edward of Cambridge, who cast up his arm to 
save the archbishop ; but when he was not able to bear the 
weight of the blow he plucked his arm back, and so the 
stroke stayed upon the archbishop's head in such wise that 
the blood ran down by his face. Then they stroke at him 
one after another, and though he fell to the ground at the 
second blow, yet they left him not till they had cut and 
pushed out his brains and dashed them about upon the 
church pavement. All this being done, they rifled his house, 
spoiled his goods and took them to their own uses, suppos- 
ing it lawful for them, being the king's servants, so to do. 

HOLINSHED. 



8o Pictures from English History. 

XI. 

THE PENANCE OF HENRY II. 

[Henry professed, no doubt honestly, deep sorrow and wrath at this 
assassination. Troubles accumulated on his head during the rest of his 
reign. His subjects in England and on the continent were in chronic 
rebellion, inspired by his inveterate enemy of France, and aided by Scot- 
land. Worst of all, his wife and sons made common cause with his ene- 
mies for his overthrow; while "on the altars of Canterbury were kept 
alive the smoldering fires of Saxon resentment." To conciliate this class 
of his subjects, and gain a support against all his enemies, he resolved on 
the dextrous stroke of statecraft described below.] 

He had scarcely arrived in Normandy when he learnt that 
his eldest son and the Earl of Flanders, having collected a 
great naval armament, were preparing to make a descent on 
England. This news determined him to embark for that 
country ; he carried with him, as prisoners, his wife Eleanor, 
and his son's wife, Margaret, daughter of the French king. 

From Southampton, where he disembarked, the king pro- 
ceeded toward Canterbury, and as soon as he came in sight 
of the metropolitan church, that is to say, at three miles dis- 
tance from the town, he descended from his horse, laid aside 
his silk apparel, took off his boots, and set off walking bare- 
foot along the flinty and muddy road. When he arrived in the 
church which contained the tomb of Thomas a Becket, he 
prostrated himself, with his face to the earth, crying and 
weeping, in presence of all the people of the town, who had 
been assembled by the sound of the bells. The Bishop of 
London, that same Gilbert Foliot, who had persecuted 
Thomas throughout his whole life, and who, after his death, 
had wished that his corpse might be thrown into a ditch, 
mounted the pulpit, and addressing himself to the congre- 
gation, said : " All you here present, know that Henry, king 
of England, calling on God and the holy martyr for the sal- 
vation of his soul, protests before you, that he neither com- 



The Penance of Henry II, 



manded, nor willed, nor willingly caused, nor desired in his 
heart the death of the martyr. But as it is possible that the 
murderers may have taken advantage of some words im- 
prudently uttered by him, he declares that he implores his 
penance from the bishops here assembled, and consents to 
submit his naked flesh to .the discipline of rods." 

Accordingly the king, accompanied by a great number of 
Norman bishops and abbots, and by all the Norman and Sax- 
on monks of the chapter of Canterbury, descended to the 
crypt, where, two years before, they had been obliged to shut 
up the corpse of the archbishop as in a fort, to defend it from 
the insults of the royal officers and soldiers. There, kneeling 
on the stone of the tomb, and divesting himself of all his 
clothing, he placed himself, with his back bare, in the same 
attitude in which his justiciaries had on a former occasion 
caused those Englishmen to be placed, who had been public- 
ly flogged for having welcomed Thomas on his return from 
exile, or for having honored him as a saint. Each of the 
bishops, whose part in the ceremony had been arranged 
beforehand, took one of the whips with several lashes which 
were used in monasteries to inflict ecclesiastical corrections, 
and which were therefore called disciplines : each one gave 
three or four stripes with this upon the shoulders of the 
prostrate king, saying : *' As the Redeemer was scourged for 
the sins of rnen, so be thou for thy own sins." From the 
hands of the bishops the discipline passed into that of the 
monks, who were very numerous, and for the most part of 
the English race. The sons of those who had been made serfs 
by the Conquest imprinted the stripes of a whip upon the 
flesh of the Conqueror's grandson, and this was not without 
a secret joy, as is betrayed by some bitter pleasantries which 
we meet with in the recitals of that time. 

But the momentary joy and triumph could not be produc- 
tive of any good to the English population ; on the contrary, 

this people was made the dupe of this ignoble scene of 
4* 



82 Pictures from English History. 

hypocrisy which was performed before them by the Angevin 
king. Henry II., finding ahiiost all his continental subjects 
opposed to him, had felt his need of the support of the Anglo- 
Saxons ; he thought that a few stripes of discipline would be 
a trifling thing if it would render him the same service with 
this people, whom he had despised in his fortunate days, as 
promises and false vows had formerly rendered his grand- 
father, Henry I. Ever since the murder of Thomas a Becket, 
love for this pretended martyr had become the passion, or 
rather, the madness, of the English people. The adoration 
of the memory of the archbishop had replaced that of the old 
laws, hitherto so much regretted ; all recollections of ancient 
liberty were effaced by the more recent impression of the 
nine years during which a primate of the Saxon race had 
been the object of the hopes, the vows, and the conversation 
of every Saxon. A striking testimony of sympathy with this 
popular sentiment was then the best bait that the king could 
at that time hold out to the men of the English race, to at- 
tract them to his cause, and to render tlT£m, in the words of 
an old historian, manageable with curb and harness. Such 
was the true motive of Henry II. 's pilgrimage to the tomb of 
him whom he had first loved as his boon companion, and then 
mortally hated as his political enemy. 

"After having been thus scourged by his own free-will," 
says the contemporary historian, " he continued his orisons 
before the holy martyr all the day and all night, took no 
nourishment, and did not leave the spot for any occasion 
whatever, but as he came so he remained, and did not allow 
any carpet, or any thing of the kind, to be placed beneath 
his knees. After matins he made the circuit of the higher 
church, prayed before all the altars and all the relics, then 
returned to the vault of the saint. On Saturday, when the 
sun was risen, he asked for and heard mass, then having 
drunk holy water of the martyr, and having filled a flask with 
it, he departed joyfully from Canterbury," 



The Penance of Henry II, 83 

This comedy was entirely successful; and there was great 
enthusiasm among the Anglo-Saxon serfs of the town and the 
neighboring country on the day when it was announced in 
the churches that the king had made his reconciliation with 
the blessed martyr by penitence and tears. It chanced, at 
this time, that William, king of Scotland, who had made a 
hostile incursion upon the English territory, was vanquished 
and made prisoner near Alnwick, in Northumberland. The 
Saxon population, enthusiastic for the honor of St. Thomas, 
believed that they saw in this victory an evident sign of the 
martyr's good-will and protection, and from this day they in- 
clined to the cause of the king whom the new saint seemed 
to favor. In consequence of this superstitious impulse, the 
English enrolled themselves in crowds under the royal ban- 
ner, and fought with ardor against the abettors of the revolt 
of Henry the younger and his two brothers. Poor and 
despised though they were, they formed the great mass of 
the inhabitants, and nothing could resist such a force when 
organized. The Norman malcontents were defeated in every 
county, their castles taken by assault, and a great number of 
earls and barons made prisoners. " So many were taken," 
says a contemporary, "that there was difficulty in finding 
cords sufficient to bind them, and prisons to contain them." 
This rapid train of successes put an end to the project of a 
descent upon England, formed by Henry the younger and the 
Earl of Flanders. Augustin Thierry. 



Pictures from English History. 



XII. 

A MEDIEVAL TOURNAMENT. 

[Richard, who succeeded his father, Henry II., stayed in England only 
long enough to extort from the realm money for his crusade. In Palestine 
he quarreled with his allies, King Philip of France and the Duke of 
Austria, and they returned home. Richard was shipwrecked en route 
homeward, and made prisoner by the insulted Duke of Austria. Al- 
though his enemy, King Philip, and his brother Prince John, in England, 
plotted against it, he was at last ransomed and released. This was the 
halcyon time of chivalry. The following sketch, which is abridged from 
three chapters of " Ivanhoe," illustrates the condition and mannei^s of the 
time, as well as the sports of chivalry.] 

The condition of the English na- 
tion was at this time sufficiently 
miserable. King Richard was 
absent, a prisoner, and in the 
power of the perfidious and cruel 
Duke of Austria. Even the very 
place of his captivity was un- 
certain, and his fate but very 
imperfectly known to the gener- 
ality of his subjects, who were, 
in the meantime, a prey to every 
species of subaltern oppression. 
Prince John, in league with Philip of France, Coeur de 
Lion's mortal enemy, was using every species of influence 
with the Duke of Austria, to prolong the captivity of his 
brother Richard, to whom he stood indebted for so many 
favors. In the meantime he was strengthening his own fac- 
tion in the kingdom, of which he proposed to dispute the 
succession, in case of the king's death, with the legitimate 
heir, Arthur, duke of Brittany, son of Geoffrey Plantagenet, 
the elder brother of John. This usurpation, it is well known, 
he afterward effected. His own character being light, profli- 




RICHARD I. 



A Medieval Tournament. 85 

gate, and perfidious, John easily attached to his person and 
faction, not only all who had reason to dread the resentment 
of Richard for criminal proceedings during his absence, but 
also the numerous class of "lawless resolutes," whom the 
Crusades had turned back on their country, accomplished in 
the vices of the East, impoverished in substance, and hard- 
ened in character, and who placed their hopes of harvest in 
civil commotion. 

To these causes of public distress and apprehension must 
be added the multitude of outlaws, who, driven to despair by 
the oppression of the feudal nobility, and the severe exercise 
of the forest laws, banded together in large gangs, and, keep- 
ing possession of the forests and the wastes, set at defiance the 
justice and magistracy of the country. The nobles them- 
selves, each fortified within his ovv^n castle, and playing the 
petty sovereign over his own dominions, were the leaders of 
bands scarce less lawless and oppressive than those of the 
avowed depredators. To maintain these retainers, and to 
support the extravagance and magnificence which their pride 
induced them to affect, the nobility borrowed suras of money 
from the Jews at the most usurious interest, which gnawed 
into their estates like consuming cankers, scarce to be cured 
unless when circumstances gave them an opportunity of get- 
ting free by exercising upon their creditors some act of un- 
principled violence. 

Under the various burdens imposed by this unhappy state 
of affairs, the people of England suffered deeply for the pres- 
ent, and had yet more dreadful cause to fear the future. To 
augment their misery, a contagious disorder of a dangerous 
nature spread through the land ; and, rendered more virulent 
by the uncleanness, the indifferent food, and the wretched 
lodging of the lower classes, swept off many whose fate the 
survivors were tempted to envy, as exempting them from the 
evils which were to come. 

Yet amid these accumulated distresses, the poor as well as 



86 Pictures from English History, 

the rich, the vulgar as well as the noble, in the event of a 
tournament, which v/as the grand spectacle of that age, felt 
as much interested as the half-starved citizen of Madrid, who 
has not a real left to buy provisions for his family, feels in the 
issue of a bull-fight. Neither duty nor infirmity could keep 
youth or age from such exhibitions. The Passage of Arms, 
as it was called, which was to take place at Ashby, in the 
County of Leicester — as champions of the first renown were to 
take the field in the presence of Prince John himself, who was 
expected to grace the lists — had attracted universal attention, 
and an immense confluence of person of all ranks hastened 
upon the appointed morning to the place of combat. The 
scene was singularly romantic. The ground, as if fashioned 
on purpose for the martial display which was intended, sloped 
gradually down on all sides to a level bottom, which was in- 
closed for the lists with strong palisades, forming a space of a 
quarter of a mile in length, and about half as broad. The 
form of the inclosure was an oblong square, save that the 
corners were considerably rounded off, in order to afford more 
convenience for the spectators. The openings for the entrance 
of the combatants were at the northern and southern extremi- 
ties of the lists, accessible by strong wooden gates, each wide 
enough to admit two horsemen riding abreast. At each of 
these portals were stationed two heralds, attended by six 
trumpets,, as many pursuivants, and a strong body of men-at- 
arms for maintaining order, and ascertaining the quality of 
the knights v/ho propose to engage in this martial game. 

On a platform beyond the southern entrance, formed by a 
natural elevation of the ground, were pitched five magnificent 
pavilions, adorned with pennons of russet and black, the 
chosen colors of the five knights challengers. The cords of 
the tents were of the some color. Before each pavilion was 
suspended the shield of the knight by whom it was occupied, 
and beside it stood his squire, quaintly disguised as a salvage 
or silvan man, or in some other fantastic dress, according to 



A Medieval Tournament. 87 

the taste of his master and the character he was pleased to 
assume during the game. The central pavilion, as the place 
of honor, had been assigned to Brian de Bois Guilbert, whose 
renown in all games of chivalry, no less than his connection 
with the knights who had undertaken this Passage of Arms, 
had occasioned him to be eagerly received into the company 
of the challengers, and even adopted as their chief and lead- 
er, though he had so recently joined them. On one side of 
his tent were pitched those of Reginald Front-de-Boeuf and 
Richard de Malvoisin, and on the other was the pavilion of 
Hugh de Grantmesnil, a noble baron in the vicinity, whose 
ancestor had been Lord High Steward of England in the time 
of the Conqueror, and of his son William Rufus. Ralph de 
Vipont, a knight of St. John of Jerusalem, who had some 
ancient possessions at a place called Heather, near Ashby- 
de-la-Zouche, occupied the fifth pavilion. From the entrance 
into the lists, a gently sloping passage, ten yards in breadth, 
led up to the platform on which the tents were pitched. It 
was strongly secured by a palisade on each side, as was the 
esplanade in front of the pavilions, and the whole was 
guarded by men-at-arms. 

The northern access to the lists terminated in a similar 
entrance of thirty feet in breadth, at the extremity of which 
was a large inclosed space for such knights as might be dis- 
posed to enter the lists with the challengers, behind which 
were placed tents containing refreshments of every kind for 
their accommodation, with armorers, farriers, and other at- 
tendants in readiness to give their services wherever they 
might be necessary. 

The exterior of the lists was in part occupied by temporary 
galleries, spread with tapestry and carpets, and accommodated 
with cushions for the convenience of those ladies and nobles 
who were expected to attend the tournament. A narrow 
space, between these galleries and the lists, gave accom- 
modation for yeomanry and spectators of a better degree 



Pictures from English History. 



than the mere vulgar, and might be compared to the pit of a 
theater. The promiscuous multitude arranged themselves 
upon large banks of turf prepared for the purpose, which, 
aided by the natural elevation of the ground, enabled them to 
overlook the galleries, and obtain a fair view into the lists. 
Besides the accommodation which these stations afforded, 
many hundreds had perched themselves on the branches of 
the trees which surrounded the meadow ; and even the 
steeple of a country church, at some distance, was crowded 
with spectators. 

It only remains to notice respecting the general arrange- 
ment that one gallery in the very center of the eastern side 
of the lists, and consequently exactly opposite to the spot 
where the shock of the combat was to take place, was raised 
higher than the others, more richly decorated, and graced by 
a sort of throne and canopy, on which the royal arms were 
emblazoned. Squires, pages, and yeomen in rich liveries 
waited around this place of honor, which was designed for 
Prince John and his attendants. Opposite to this royal gal- 
lery was another, elevated to the same height, on the western 
side of the lists ; and more gayly, if less sumptuously deco- 
rated, than that destined for the prince himself. A train of 
pages and of young maidens, the most beautiful who could 
be selected, gayly dressed in fancy habits of green and pink, 
surrounded a throne decorated in the same colors. Among 
pennons and flags bearing wounded hearts, burning hearts, 
bleeding hearts, bows and quivers, and all the commonplace 
emblems of the triumphs of Cupid, a blazoned inscription in- 
formed the spectators that this seat of honor was designed for 
La Reyne de la Beaute et des Amours. But who was to repre- 
sent the Queen of Beauty and of Love on the present occa- 
sion no one was prepared to guess. 

Gradually the galleries became filled with knights and 
nobles, in their robes of peace, whose long and rich-tinted 
mantels were contrasted with the gayer and more splendid 



A Mediaeval Tournament. 



habits of the ladies, who, in a greater proportion than even 
the men themselves, thronged to witness a sport, which one 
would have thought too bloody and dangerous to afford their 
sex much pleasure. The lower and interior space was soon 
filled by substantial yeomen and burghers, and such of the 
lesser gentry, as, from modesty, poverty, or dubious title, durst 
not assume any higher place. It was, of course, among these 
that the most frequent disputes for precedence occurred. 

Prince John at that moment entered the lists, attended by 
a numerous and gay train, consisting partly of laymen, and 
partly of churchmen, as light in their dress and as gay in 
their demeanor as their companions. Attended by this gal- 
lant equipage, himself well mounted and splendidly dressed 
in crimson and in gold, bearing upon his hand a falcon, and 
having his head covered by a rich fur bonnet adorned with a 
circle of precious stones, from which his long curled hair 
escaped and overspread his shoulders, Prince John, upon a 
gray and high-mettled palfrey, caracoled within the lists at 
the head of his jovial party, laughing loud with his train, and 
eying with all the boldness of royal criticism the beauties 
who adorned the lofty galleries. The prince, assuming his 
throne, and being surrounded by his followers, gave signal to 
the heralds to proclaim the laws of the tournament. It was 
announced that, on the second day, there should be a general 
tournament, in which all the knights present, who were de- 
sirous to win praise, might take part ; and being divided into 
two bands of equal numbers, might fight it out manfully, 
until the signal was given by Prince John to cease the com- 
bat. The elected Queen of Love and Beauty was then to 
crown the knight, whom the prince should adjudge to have 
borne himself best in this second day, with a coronet com- 
posed of thin gold plate, cut into the shape of a laurel crown. 
On this second day the knightly games ceased. But on that 
which was to follow, feats of archery, of bull-baiting, and 
other popular amusements were to be practiced, for the more 



90 Pictures from English History. 

immediate amusement of the populace. In this manner did 
Prince John endeavor to lay the foundation of a popularity, 
which he was perpetually throwing down by some incon- 
siderate act of wanton aggression upon the feelings and 
prejudices of the people. 

The lists now presented a most splendid spectacle. The 
sloping galleries were crowded with all that was noble, great, 
wealthy, and beautiful in the northern and midland parts of 
England ; and the contrast of the various dresses of these 
dignified spectators rendered the view as gay as it was rich, 
while the interior and lower space, filled with the substantial 
burgesses and yeomen of merry England, formed, in their 
more plain attire, a dark fringe, or border, around this circle 
of brilliant embroidery, relieving, and, at the same time, set- 
ting off its splendor. 

Meantime the inclosed space at the northern extremity 
of the lists, large as it was, was now completely crowded with 
knights, desirous to prove their skill against the challengers, 
and, when viewed from the galleries, presented the appear- 
ance of a sea of waving plumage, intermixed with glistening 
helmets, and tall lances, to the extremities of which were, in 
many cases, attached small pennons of about a span's 
breadth, which, fluttering in the air as the breeze caught 
them, joined with the restless motion of the feathers to add 
liveliness to the scene. 

At length the barriers were opened, and five knights, chosen 
by lot, advanced slowly into the area; a single champion 
riding in front, and the other four following in pairs. As the 
procession entered the lists, the sound of a wild barbaric^ 
music was heard from behind the tents of the challengers, 
where the performers were concealed. It was of Eastern 
origin, having been brought from the Holy Land ; and the 
mixture of the cymbals and bells seemed to bid welcome at 
once, and defiance, to the knights as they advanced. With 
the eyes of an immense concourse of spectators fixed upon 



A Mediaeval Tournament. 91 

them, the five knights advanced up the platform upon which 
the tents of the challengers stood, and there separating them- 
selves, each touched slightly, and with the reverse of his 
lance, the shield of the antagonist to whom he wished to op- 
pose himself. 

[The individual encounters, in response to the challenges of the five 
champions, comprising the sports of the first day, left a disguised and 
anonymous opponent of theirs the champion of the lists. He went by the 
name of The Disinherited Knight. The general tournament of the sec- 
ond day was between two parties of fifty knights each ; one led by the 
Disinherited Knight, and the other by Brian de Bois-Gilbert, the Templar, 
who had been his stoutest opponent on the first day. The struggle, the 
peril of the Disinherited Knight, and the sudden appearance of King 
Richard in the lists to his rescue are thus described.] 

The heralds then proclaimed silence until the laws of the 
tourney should be rehearsed. These were calculated in 
some degree to abate the dangers of the day ; a precaution 
the more necessary, as the conflict was to be maintained 
with sharp swords and pointed lances. Having announced 
these precautions, the heralds concluded with an exhortation 
to each good knight to do his duty, and to merit favor from 
the Queen of Beauty and of Love. 

This proclamation having been -made, the heralds with- 
drew to their stations. The knights entering at either end 
of the lists in long procession, arranged themselves in a 
double file, precisely opposite to each other, the leader of 
each party being in the center of the foremost rank, a 
post which he did not occupy until each had carefully ar- 
ranged the ranks of his party and stationed every one in his 
place. 

It was a goodly, and at the same time an anxious, sight to 
behold so many gallant champions, mounted bravely and 
armed richly, stand ready prepared for an encounter so for- 
midable, seated on the war-saddles like so many pillars of 
iron, and awaiting the signal of encounter with the same 



92 Pictures from English History. 

ardor as their generous steeds, which, by neighing and paw- 
ing the ground, gave signal of their impatience. 

As yet the knights held their long lances upright, their 
bright points glancing to the sun, and the streamers with 
which they were decorated fluttered over the plumage of the 
helmets. Thus they remained while the marshals of the field 
surveyed their ranks with the utmost exactness, lest either 
party had more or fewer than the appointed number. The 
tale was found exactly complete. The marshals then with- 
drew from the lists, and William de Wyvil, with a voice of 
thunder, pronounced the signal words — Laissez alter ! The 
trumpets sounded as he spoke — the spears of the champions 
were at once lowered and placed in the rests — the spurs were 
dashed in the flanks of the horses, and the two foremost 
ranks of either party rushed upon each other in full gallop, 
and met in the middle of the lists with a shock, the sound of 
which was heard at a mile's distance. The rear rank of 
each party advanced at a slower pace to sustain the defeated, 
and follow up the success of the victors of their party. 

The consequences of the encounter were not instantly 
seen, for the dust raised by the trampling of so many steeds 
darkened the air, and it was a minute ere the anxious spec- 
tators could see the effegt of the encounter. When the fight 
became visible, half the knights on each side were dismounted, 
some by the dexterity of their adversary's lance— some by the 
superior weight and strength of opponents, which had borne 
down both horse and man — some lay stretched on the earth 
as if never more to rise — some had already gained their feet, 
and closing hand to hand with those of their antagonists who 
were in the same predicament — and several on both sides, 
who had received wounds by which they were disabled, were 
stopping their blood with their scarfs, and endeavoring to 
extricate themselves from the tumult. The mounted knights, 
whose lances had been almost all broken by the fury of the 
encounter, were now closely engaged with their swords, 



A Mkdi^val Tournament. 93 

shouting their war-cries and exchanging buffets, as if honor 
and life depended on the issue of the combat. 

The tumult was presently increased by the advance of the 
second rank on either side, which, acting as a reserve, now 
rushed on to aid their companions. The followers of Brian 
de Bois-Guilbert shouted, '"'' Ha ! Beau-scant! Beau-scant ! 
For the Temple—for the Temple!" The opposite party 
shouted in answer, '''' Desdichado ! Desdichado ! " which 
watch-word they took from the motto upon their leader's 
shield. 

Meantime the clang of the blows and the shouts of the 
combatants mixed fearfully with the sound of trumpets, and 
drowned the groans of those who fell, and lay rolling de- 
fenseless beneath the feet of the horses. The splendid 
armor of the combatants was now defaced with dust and 
blood, and gave way at every stroke of the sword and battle- 
ax. The gay plumage, shorn from the crests, drifted upon 
the breeze like snow-flakes. All that was beautiful and 
graceful in the martial array had disappeared, and what was 
now visible was only calculated to awake terror or com- 
passion. 

Yet, such is the force of habit, that not only the vulgar 
spectators, who are naturally attracted by sights of horror, 
but even the ladies of distinction who crowded the galleries, 
saw the confligt with a thrilling interest certainly, but without 
a wish to withdraw their eyes from a sight so terrible. Here 
and there, indeed, a fair cheek might turn pale, or a faint 
scream might be heard, as a lover, a brother, or a husband 
was struck from his horse. But, in general, the ladies around 
encouraged the combatants, not only by clapping their hands 
and waving their veils and kerchiefs, but even by exclaiming, 
" Brave lance ! " " Good sword ! " when any successful thrust 
or blow took place under their observation. And between 
every pause was heard the voice of the heralds exclaiming, 
" Fight on, brave knights ! Man dies, but glory lives ! 



94 Pictures from English History. 

Fight on : death is better than defeat ! Fight on, brave 
knights ! for bright eyes behold your deeds ! " 

But when the field became thin by the numbers on either 
side, who had yielded themselves vanquished, had been com- 
pelled to the extremity of the lists, or been otherwise ren- 
dered incapable of continuing the strife, the Templar and 
the Disinherited Knight at length encountered hand to hand, 
with all the fury that mortal animosity, joined to rivalry of 
honor, could inspire. Such was the address of each in par- 
rying and striking that the spectators broke forth into a 
unanimous and involuntary shout, expressive of their delight 
and admiration. 

But at this moment the party of the Disinherited Knight 
had the worst, the gigantic arm of Front-de-Boeuf on the 
one flank, and the ponderous strength of Alhelstane on the 
other, bearing down and dispersing those immediately ex- 
posed to them. Finding themselves freed from their imme- 
diate antagonists, it seems to have occurred to both of these 
knights at the same instant, that they would render the most 
decisive advantage to their party by aiding the Templar in 
his contest with his rival. Turning their horses, therefore, 
at the same moment, the Norman spurred against the Disin- 
herited Knight on the one side, and the Saxon on the other. 
It was utterly impossible that the object of this unequal and 
unexpected assault could have sustained it, had he not been 
warned by a general cry from the spectators, who could not 
but take interest in one exposed to such disadvantage. 

" Beware ! beware ! Sir Disinherited ! " was shouted so 
universally, that the knight became aware of his danger ; 
and, striking a full blow at the Templar, he reined back his 
steed in the same moment, so as to escape the charge of 
Athelstane and Front-de-Boeuf. These knights, therefore, 
their aim being thus eluded, rushed from opposite sides be- 
tween the object of their attack and the Templar, almost 
running their horses against each other ere they could stop 



A Mediaeval Tournament. 95 

their career. Recovering their horses, however, and wheel- 
ing them round, the whole three pursued their united pur- 
pose of bearing to the earth the Disinherited Knight. 

The masterly horsemanship of the Disinherited Knight, and 
the activity of the noble animal which he mounted, enabled 
him for a few minutes to keep at sword's point his three an- 
tagonists, turning and wheeling with the agility of a hawk 
upon the wing, keeping his enemies as far separate as he 
could, and rushing now against the one, now against the 
other, dealing sweeping blows with his sword, without wait- 
ing to receive those which were aimed at him in return. 
But although the lists rang with the applauses of his dexter- 
ity, it was evident that he must at last be overpowered. An 
unexpected incident changed the fortune of the day. 

There was among the ranks of the Disinherited Knight a 
champion in black armor, mounted on a black horse, large 
of size, tall, and to all appearance powerful and strong, like 
the rider by whom he was mounted. This knight, who bore 
on his shield no device of any kind, had hitherto evinced 
very little interest in the event of the fight, beating off with 
seeming ease those combatants who attacked him, but neither 
pursuing his advantages nor himself assailing any one. In 
short, he had hitherto acted the part rather of a spectator 
than of a party in the tournament, a circumstance which pro- 
cured him among the spectators the name of Le Noir 
Fainea?it, or the Black Sluggard. 

At once this knight seemed to throw aside his apathy, 
when he discovered the leader of his party so hard bestead ; 
for, setting spurs to his horse, which was quite fresh, he 
came to his assistance like a thunder-bolt, exclaiming in a 
voice like a trumpet-call, " Desdichado to the rescue ! " It 
was high time ; for, while the Disinherited Knight was 
pressing upon the Templar, Front-de-Boeuf had got nigh to 
him with his uplifted sword ; but ere the blow could de- 
scend the Sable Knight dealt a stroke on his head, which, 



g6 Pictures from English History. 

glancing from the polished helmet, lighted with violence 
scarcely abated on the chamfron of the steed, and Front-de- 
Eosuf rolled on the ground, both horse and man equally- 
stunned by the fury of the blow. Le Noir Faineani then 
turned his horse upon Athelstane of Coningsburgh ; and, his 
own sword having been broken in his encounter with Front- 
de-Boeuf, he wrenched from the hand of the bulky Saxon 
the battle-ax which he wielded, and, like one familiar with 
the use of the v^^eapon, bestowed him such a. blow upon the 
crest, that Athelstane also lay senseless on the field. Having 
achieved this double feat, for which he was the more highly 
applauded that it was totally unexpected from him, the 
knight seemed to resume the sluggishness of his character, 
returning calmly to the northern extremity of the lists, leav- 
ing his leader to cope as he best could with Brian de Bois- 
Guilbert. This was no longer matter of so much difficulty 
as formerly. The Templar's horse had bled much, and gave 
way under the shock of the Disinherited Knight's charge. 
Brian de Bois-Gilbert rolled on the field, encumbered with 
the stirrup, from which he was unable to draw his foot. His 
antagonist sprang from horseback, waved his fatal sword 
over the head of his adversary, and commanded him to 
yield himself; when Prince John, more moved by the Tem- 
plar's dangerous situation than he had been by that of his 
rival, saved him the mortification of confessing himself 
vanquished by casting down his warder and putting an end 
to the conflict. 

Thus ended the memorable field of Ashby-de-la-Zouche, 
one of the most gallantly contested tournaments of that age; 
for although only four knights, including one who v/as smoth- 
ered by the heat of his armor, had died upon the field, yet 
upward of thirty were desperately wounded, four or five of 
whom never recovered. Several more were disabled for life ; 
and those who escaped best carried the marks of the conflict 
to the grave with them. Hence it is always mentioned in 



A Medieval Tournament. 97 

the old records as the Gentle and Joyous Passage of Arms 
of Ashby. 

It being now the duty of Prince John to name the knight 
who had done best, he determined that the honor of the day 
remained with the knight whom the popular voice had 
termed Le Noir Faineant. To the surprise of all present, 
however, the knight thus preferred was nowhere to be found. 
He had left the lists immediately when the conflict ceased, 
and had been observed by some spectators to move down 
one of the forest glades with the same slow pace and listless 
and indifferent manner which had procured him the epithet 
of the Black Sluggard. After he had been summoned twice 
by the sound of trumpet and proclamation of the heralds, it 
became necessary to name another to receive the honors 
which had been assigned to him. Prince John had now no 
further excuse for resisting the claim of the Disinherited 
Knight, whom, therefore, he named the champion of the 
day. 

Prince John had proceeded thus far, and was about to 
give the signal for retiring from the lists, when a small billet 
was put into his hand. 

" From whence .'' " said Prince John, looking at the person 
by whom it was delivered. 

" From foreign parts, my lord, but from whence I know 
not," replied his attendant. " A Frenchman brought it 
hither, who said he had ridden night and day to put it into 
the hands of your highness." 

The prince looked narrowly at the superscription and then 
at the seal, placed so as to secure the flox-silk with which 
the billet was surrounded, and which bore the impression of 
three fleurs-de-lis. John then opened the billet with appar- 
ent agitation, which visibly and greatly increased when he 
had perused the contents, which were expressed in these 
words : 

" Take heed to yourself ^ for the devil is unchained! " 
5 



98 Pictures from English History. 

The prince turned as pale as death, looked first on the 
earth and then to heaven, like a man who has received news 
that sentence of execution has been passed upon him. " It 
means," he added, in a faltering voice, " that my brother 
Richard has obtained his freedom." 

"This may be a false alarm or a forged letter," said De 
Bracy. 

"It is France's own hand and seal," replied Prince John. 

Walter Scott. 



XIII. 
HOW THE GREAT CHARTER WAS WON. 






ywx 






[Upon the death of Richard, his brother John made away with the 
legitimate successor, Arthur, son of tlie elder brother, Geoffry, and seized 
the crown. John was the epitome of all that is vile in man and unfit in a 
ruler. His tyranny and licentiousness brought him, in lime, into antag- 
onism against all classes of his subjects, and united the nation in a demand 
for that guarantee of the subject's rights and definition of the limitations 
of the crown — Magna Charta.] 

There were now two eminent persons, among many other 
bold and earnest Churchmen and laity, who saw that the 
time was come when no man should be " king and lord in 
England " with a total disregard of the rights of other men ; 
a time when a king should rule in England by law instead 
of by force, or rule not at all, Stephen Langton, the arch- 



How THE Great Charter was Won. 99 

bishop, and William, Earl of Pembroke, were the leaders, 
and at the same time moderators, in the greatest enterprise 
that the nation had yet undertaken. It was an enterprise 
of enormous difficulty. The pope was now in friendship 
with the king, and this might influence the great body of ec- 
clesiastics. The royal castles were in possession of the mer- 
cenary soldiers. The craft of John was as much to be 
dreaded as his violence. But there was no shrinking from 
the duty that was before these patriots. They moved on 
steadily in the formation of a league that would be strong 
to enforce their just demands, even if the issue were war 
between the crown and the people. The bishops and barons 
were the great council of the nation. Parliament, including 
the Commons, was not as yet, though not far distant. 

The memorable meeting of Runnymede was preceded by 
a more solemn meeting ; when upon the altar at Saint Ed- 
mundsbury the barons, on the 20th of November, 12 14, 
solemnly swore to withdraw their allegiance from John if he 
should resist their claims to just government. They had not 
only public wrongs to redress, but the private outrages of the 
king's licentiousness were not to be endured by the class of 
high-born knights whom he insulted through their wives and 
daughters. From Saint Edmundsbury the barons marched 
to London, where the king had shut himself up in the Tem- 
ple. When their deputies came into his presence he first 
despised their claims, and then asked for delay. The Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, the Earl of Pembroke, and the Bishop 
of Ely guaranteed that a satisfactory answer should be given 
before Easter. The king employed the time in the endeavor 
to propitiate the Church by promising a free election of 
bishops. He took the cross, and engaged to wage war with 
the infidels. He sent to Rome to implore the aid of the 
pope in his quarrel. And the pope came to his aid, and 
commanded Langton to exercise his authority to bring back 
-the king's vassals to their allegiance. 



Pictures from English History. 



At Easter the barons, with a large force, assembled at 
Stamford. John was at Oxford, and Langton and Pembroke 
were with him. They were sent by the king to ascertain the 
demands of their peers ; and these messengers, or mediators, 
brought back the written articles which the king signed at 
Runnymede. As the archbishop solemnly repeated these 
demands, John went into a furious passion, and declared that 
he would never grant liberties which would make himself a 
slave. The archbishop and the earl took back his refusal. 
" The army of God and Holy Church," as the barons pro- 
claimed themselves, then advanced upon London, which Oiey 
entered on the 22d of May. The citizens had previously 
agreed to make common cause with them. There is a curious 
document, dated the 20th of May, which exhibits the anger 
of John at this circumstance, and the pettiness of his re- 
venge : " The king to all his bailiffs and faithful people who 
may view these letters. Know ye, that the citizens of Lon- 
don in common have seditiously and deceitfully withdrawn 
themselves from our service and fealty ; and, therefore, we 
command you that when they or their servants or chattels 
pass through your districts, ye do offer them all the re- 
proaches in your power, evefi as ye would to our enemies ; 
and in testimony hereof we send you these our letters- 
patent." On this 20th of May John was at Winchester. 
He then journeyed to Windsor, where he remained from the 
31st of May to June 3. He then returned to Winchester. 
On the loth of June he is again at Windsor, which is his 
abiding place for a fortnight. On Monday, the 15th of June, 
he goes from the adjacent castle to Runnymede. The time 
and place of meeting was by solemn appointment. The 
great business of the assembly was accomplished on that day ; 
but we find John at Runnymede on six subsequent days, be- 
tween the 15th and the 23d of June. The castle of Windsor 
was not then on the spot where the flag of England still 
waves over the proud keep of Edward IH. It was on that 




John's Anger, about signing Magna Cliarta. 



How THE Great Charter was Won, ioi 

western side, where a bold tower of the twelfth century now 
rises up proudly upon the modern street, and where the 
fortress, protected by its ditch, then looked down upon the 
broad meadows watered by the Thames, which, flowing round 
the base of the chalk hill, gave the beautiful name of Win- 
dleshora to the beautiful locality. From that fortress goes 
forth King John. From London has marched the army of 
the barons. 

That long, low plain of Runnymede, bounded on one side 
by the Thames, on the other by a gentle line of hills — the 
island in the river where some hold that the Charter was 
signed — the gentle aspect of the whole scene — this famous 
spot speaks only of peace and long tranquillity. In this 
council-meadow — for Rune-med means the mead of council 
— king and earl had often met in solemn witan, before the 
Norman planted his foot on the island. A great mixed race 
had preserved the old traditions of individual liberty, which 
belonged to the days before the Conquest. The spirit of 
the ancient institutions had blended with the feudal princi- 
ples, and in their joint facility of adaptation to varying 
states of society, would, practically, be the inheritance of 
generation after generation. To that great meeting of Run- 
nymede came some citizens of London with the mailed 
knights. Perhaps there were some servile tenants among 
the crowd, who wondered if for them any blessing would 
arise out of the differences between the king and their lords. 
Yet the iron men who won this Charter of liberties dreamed 
not of the day when a greater power than their own — the 
power of the burgher and the villain — would maintain what 
prelate and baron had sworn to win upon the altar of Saint 
Edmundsbury. Another order of men, who gradually worked 
their way out of that state in which they were despised or 
neglected, have kept, and will keep, God willing, what they 
of the pointed shield and mascled armor won on the 15th day 
of June, in the year of grace 12x5. 



Pictures from English History. 



Magna Charta, the Great Charter of Liberties, is com- 
monly regarded as the basis of English freedom. This is, 
to some extent, a misconception. It was a code of laws, 
expressed in simple language, embodying two principles — 
the first, such limitations of the feudal claims of the king as 
would prevent their abuse ; the second, such specification of 
the general rights of all freemen as were derived from the 
ancient laws of the realm, however these rights had been 
neglected or perverted. It contained no assertion of abstract 
principles of freedom or justice, but met unquestionable 
evils by practical remedies. To imagine that this Charter 
contained any large views of government that were not con- 
sistent with the condition of society at the time of its enact- 
ment, is to believe that the men who enforced it, with their 
swords in their hands, were, to use a modern expression, 
before their age. If they had been before their age, by any 
fortuitous possession of greater wisdom, foresight, and liber- 
ality than belonged to their age, that charter would not have 
stood up against the regal power which again and again 
assailed it. It was built, as all English freedom has been 
built, upon something which had gone before it. It was not 
a revolution. It was a conservative reform. It demanded 
no limitation of the regal power which had not been ac- 
knowledged, in theory, by every king who had taken the 
coronation oath. It made that oath, which had been re- 
garded as a mere form of words, a binding reality. It de- 
fined, in broad terms of practical application, the essential 
difference between a limited and a despotic monarchy. 

The barons of England did the work -which was called for 
in their generation ; and they left to their successors in the 
battle for liberty, whether they were noble or plebeian, to 
carry on the same work in the same practical and temperate 
spirit. " From this era a new soul was infused into the peo- 
ple of England." The principle was rooted in our English 
earth, like the Ankerwyke Yew, which was a vigorous tree 



How THE Great Charter was Won 103 

on the opposite bank of the Thames, when " the army of 
God and Holy Church " stood upon Runnymede, and which 
still bears its green leaf after six hundred and fifty winters. 

Charles Knight. 



XIV, 
SIMON DE MONTFORT. 

[The efforts of John, after the signing of the Magna Charta, and of his 
son, Henry III., who succeeded him, were directed to the annulling of that 
declaration of rights. Henry many times took oath to obey it, but as often 
broke it. His bad faith and lav/lessness, and the prodigality of his foreign 
courtiers at last precipitated an appeal to arms of king and barons. The 
barons, led by Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester, defeated the king's 
forces at Lewes, took the king and his son, Prince Edward, prisoners. Earl 
Simon used his power to fortify the people's prerogatives ; to which end his 
chief act was to constitute a Parliament composed of elected representatives 
of boroughs and cities — the act on which his fame rests. But strife broke 
out among the patriots themselves ; the bulk of the nobles forsook the earl ; 
and Prince Edward, having escaped his guards, gathered an army and 
marched against him. Earl Simon was expecting the coming of re- 
enforcements under his son to strengthen the weak force about him, when 
Edward, who had already surprised the son's force and cut it to pieces, fell 
upon De Montfort's army at Evesham, defeated it, and killed its leader.] 

The victory of Lewes placed Earl Simon at the head of the 
state. " Now England breathes in the hope of liberty," sang 
a poet of the time : " the English were despised like dogs, 
but now they have lifted up their head, and their foes are 
vanquished." But the moderation of the terms agreed upon 
in the Mise of Lewes, a convention between the king and his 
captors, shows Simon's sense of the difficulties of his po- 
sition. . . . Triumphant as he was, indeed, Earl Simon's 
difficulties thickened every day. The queen, with Arch- 
bishop Boniface, gathered an army in France for an invasion ; 
Roger Mortimer, with the border barons, v/as still in arms, 



104 Pictures from English History. 

and only held in check by Llewelyn. It was impossible to 
make binding terms with an imprisoned king, yet to release 
Henry without terms was to renew the war. The imprison- 
ment, too, gave a shock to public feeling which thinned the 
earl's ranks. In the new Parliament, which he called at the 
opening of 1265, the weakness of the patriotic party among 
the baronage was shown in the fact that only twenty-three 
earls and barons could be found to sit beside, the hundred 
and twenty ecclesiastics. 

But it was just this sense of his weakness which prompted 
Earl Simon to an act that has done more than any incident of 
this struggle to immortalize his name. Had the strife been 
simply a strife for power between the king and the baronage, 
the victory of either would have been equally fatal in its re- 
sults. The success of the one would have doomed England 
to a royal despotism, that of the other to a feudal aristocracy. 
Fortunately for our freedom the English baronage had been 
brought too low by the policy of the kings to be able to with- 
stand the crown single-handed. From the first moment of 
the contest it had been forced to make its cause a national 
one. The summons of two knights from each county, elected 
in its county court, to a Parliament in 1254, even before the 
opening of the struggle, was a recognition of the political 
weight of the country gentry which was confirmed by the 
summons of four knights from every county to the Parlia- 
ment assembled after the battle of Lewes. The Provisions 
of Oxford, in stipulating for attendance and counsel on the 
part of twelve delegates of the "commonalty," gave the first 
indication of a yet wider appeal to the people at large. But 
it was the weakness of his party among the baronage at this 
great crisis which drove Earl Simon to a constitutional 
change of mighty issue in our history. As before, he sum- 
moned two knights from every county. But he created a 
new force in English politics when he summoned to sit be- 
side them two citizens from every borough. The attendance 



Simon de Montfort. 105 

of delegates from the towns had long been usual in the 
county courts when any matter respecting their interest was 
in question; but it was the writ issued by Earl Simon that 
first summoned the merchant and the trader to sit beside the 
knight of the shire, the baron, and the bishop in the Parlia- 
ment of the realm. 

It is only this great event, however, which enables us to 
understand the large and prescient nature of Earl Simon's 
designs. Hardly a few months had passed away since the 
victory of Lewes when the burghers took their seats at West- 
minster, yet his government was tottering to its fall. . . . The 
earl met the dangers from without with complete success. 
In September, 1264, a general muster of the national forces 
on Barham Down and a contrary wind put an end to the 
projects of invasion entertained by the mercenaries whom 
the queen had collected in Flanders ; the threats of France 
died away ; the papal legate was forbidden to cross the 
Channel, and his bulls of excommunication were flung into 
the sea. But the difficulties at home grew more formidable 
every day. The restraint upon Henry and Edward jarred 
against the national feeling of loyalty, and estranged the mass 
of Englishmen who always side with the weak. Small as the 
patriotic party among the barons had been from the first, it 
grew smaller as dissensions broke out over the spoils of 
victory. The earl's justice and resolve to secure the public 
peace told heavily against him. John Gifford left him be- 
cause he refused to allow him to exact ransom from a pris- 
oner, contrary to the agreement made after Lewes. 

A great danger opened when the young Earl of Gloucester, 
though enriched with the estates of the foreigners, held him- 
self aloof from the Justiciar, and resented Leicester's pro- 
hibition of a tournament. . . . He withdrew to his own 
lands "in the west, and secretly allied himself with Roger 
Mortimer and the Marcher barons. Earl Simon soon fol- 
lowed him to the west, taking with him the king and 
5* 



io6 Pictures from English History. 

Edward. He moved along the Severn, securing its towns, ad- 
vanced westward to Hereford, and was marching at the end 
of June along bad roads into the heart of South Wales to 
attack the fortresses of Earl Gilbert in Glamorgan when Ed- 
ward suddenly made his escape from Hereford and joined 
Gloucester at Ludlow. The moment had been skillfully 
chosen, and Edward showed a rare ability in the movements 
by which he took advantage of the earl's position. Moving 
rapidly along the Severn he seized Gloucester and the bridges 
across the river, destroyed the ships by which Leicester 
strove to escape across the Channel to Bristol, and cut him 
off altogether from England. By this movement, too, he 
placed himself between the earl and his son Simon, who was 
advancing from the east to his father's relief. Turning 
rapidly on this second force Edward surprised it at Kenil- 
worth, and drove it with heavy loss within the walls of the 
castle. 

But the success was more than compensated by the oppor- 
tunity which his absence gave to the earl of breaking the line 
of the Severn. Taken by surprise, and isolated as he was, 
Simon had been forced to seek for aid and troops in an 
avowed alliance with Llewelyn, and it was with Welsh re- 
enforcements that he turned to the east. But the seizure of 
his ships and of the bridges of the Severn held him a pris- 
oner in Edward's grasp, and a fierce attack drove him back, 
with broken and starving forces, into the Welsh hills. In 
utter despair he struck northward to Hereford, but the ab- 
sence of Edward now enabled him, on the 2d of August, to 
throw his troops in boats across the Severn below Worcester. 
The news drove Edward quickly back in a fruitless counter- 
march to the river, for the earl had already reached Evesham, 
by a long night march, on the morning of the 4th, while his 
son, relieved in turn by Edward's counter-march, had 
pushed, in the same night, to the little town of Alcester. 

The two armies were now but some ten miles apart, and 



Simon de Montfort. 107 

their junction seemed secured. But both were spent with 
long marching, and while the earl, listening reluctantly to the 
request of the king, who accompanied him, halted at Eves- 
ham for mass and dinner, the army of the younger Simon 
halted for the same purpose at Alcester. " Those two din- 
ners doleful were, alas ! " sings Robert of Gloucester ; for 
through the same memorable night Edward was hurrying 
back from the Severn, by country cross-lanes, to seize the 
fatal gap that lay between them. As morning broke, his 
army lay across the road that led northward from Evesham 
to Alcester. Evesham lies in a loop of the river Avon where 
it bends to the south ; and a height on which Edward ranged 
his troops closed the one outlet from it save across the river. 
But a force had been thrown over the river, under Mortimer, 
to seize the bridges, and all retreat was thus finally cut off. 

The approach of Edward's army called Simon to the front, 
and for a moment he took it for his son's. Though the hope 
soon died away, a touch of soldierly pride moved him as he 
recognized in the orderly advance of his enemies a proof of 
his own training. " By the arm of St, James," he cried, 
" they come on in wise fashion, but it was from me that they 
learnt it." A glance, however, satisfied him of the hopless- 
ness of a struggle ; it was impossible for a handful of horse- 
men with a mob of half-armed Welshmen to resist the dis- 
ciplined knighthood of the royal army. " Let us commend 
our souls to God," Simon said to the little group around him, 
*' for our bodies are the foe's," He bade Hugh Dispenser 
and the rest of his comrades fly from the field. " If he died," 
was the noble answer, ''they had no will to live." In three 
hours the butchery was over. The Welsh fled at the first 
onset like sheep, and were cut ruthlessly down in the corn- 
fields and gardens where they sought refuge. The little 
group of knights around Simon fought desperately, falling one 
by one till the earl was left alone. So terrible were his 
sword-strokes that he had all but gained the hill-top when a 



io8 Pictures from English History. 

lance-thrust brought his horse to the ground, but Simon still 
rejected the summons to yield till a blow from behind felled 
him mortally wounded to the ground. Then, with a last cry 
of " It is God's grace," the soul of the great patriot passed 
away. John Richard Green. 



XV. 
BANNOCKBURN. 



[Edward I. attempted the conquest of Scotland, and died in the midst 
of an uncompleted campaign, leaving the task to his son, Edward II. This 
prince made but one effort in that direction, and was disastrously defeated 
in the battle of Bannockburn by the Scots under Robert Bruce.] 

Bruce studied how he might supply, by address and strata- 
gem what he wanted in numbers and strength. He knew 
the superiority of the English, both in their heavy-armed 
cavalry, which were much better mounted and armed than 
that of the Scots, and in their archers, who were better 
trained than any others in the world. Both these advantages 
he resolved to provide against. With this purpose he led his 
army down into a plain near Stirling, called the Park, near 
which, and beneath it, the English army must needs pass 
through a boggy country, broken with water-courses, while 
the Scots occupied hard dry ground. He then caused all 
the ground upon the front of his line of battle, wher^ cavalry- 
were likely to act, to be dug full of holes, about as deep as a 
man's knee. They were filled with light brushwood, and the 
turf was laid on the top, so that it appeared a plain field, 
while in reality it was as full of these pits as a honey-comb 
is of holes. He also, it is said,^ caused steel spikes, called 
calthrops, to be scattered up and down in the plain, where 
the English cavalry were most likely to advance, trusting in 
that manner to lame and destroy their horses. 

When the Scottish army was drawn up, the line stretched 



Bannockburn. 



109 



north and south. On the south it was terminated by the 
banks of the brook called Bannockburn, which are so rocky 
that no troops could attack them there. On the left, the 
Scottish line extended near to the town of Stirling. Bruce 
reviewed his troops very carefully ; all the useless servants, 
drivers of carts, and such like, of whom there were very 
many, he ordered to go behind a height, afterward, in mem- 
ory of the event, callied the Gillies' hill, that is, the Servants' 
hill. He then spoke to the soldiers, and expressed his de- 
termination to gain the victory, or to lose his life on the field 
of battle. He desired that all those who did not propose to 
fight to the last should leave the field before the battle be- 
gan, and that none should remain except those who were 
determined to take the issue of victory or death, as God 
should send it. 

When the main body of his army was thus placed in order, 
the king posted Randolph, with a body of horse, near to the 
church of St. Ninian's, commanding him to use the utmost 
diligence to prevent any succors from being thrown into 
Stirling castle. He then dispatched James of Douglas and 
Sir Robert Keith, the mareschal of the Scottish army, in or- 
der that they might survey, as nearly as they could, the En- 
glish force, which was now approaching from Falkirk. They 
returned with information that the approach of that vast host 
was one of the most beautiful and terrible sights which could 
be seen — that the whole country seemed covered with men- 
at-arms on horse and foot — that the number of standards, 
banners, and pennons (all flags of different kinds) made so 
gallant a show, that the bravest and most numerous host in 
Christendom might be alarmed to see King Edward moving 
against them. 

It was upon the 23d of June (1314) the King of Scotland 
heard the news that the English army were approaching 
Stirling. He drew out his army, therefore, in the order 
which had been resolved on. After a short time Bruce, who 



no Pictures from English History. 

was looking out anxiously for the enemy, saw a body of 
English cavalry trying to get into Stirling from the eastward. 
This was the Lord Clifford, who, with a chosen body of 800 
horse, had been detached to relieve the castle. " See, Ran- 
dolph," said the king to his nephew, " there is a rose fallen 
from your chaplet." By this he meant that Randolph had 
lost some honor by suffering the enemy to pass where he had 
been stationed to hinder them. Randolph made no reply, 
but rushed against Clifford with little more than half his 
number. The Scots were on foot. The English turned to 
charge them with their lances, and Randolph drew up his 
men in close order to receive the onset. He seemed to be 
in so much danger, that Douglas asked leave of the king to 
go and assist him. The king refused him permission. " Let 
Randolph," he said, "redeem his own fault; I cannot break 
the order of battle for his sake." Still the danger appeared 
greater, and the English horse seemed entirely to encompass 
the small handful of Scottish infantry. " So please you," 
said Douglas to the king, " my heart will not suffer me to 
stand idle and see Randolph perish — I must go to his assist- 
ance." He rode off accordingly ; but long before they had 
reached the place of combat they saw the English horses 
galloping off, many with empty saddles. 

" Halt ! " said Douglas to his men, " Randolph has gained 
the day ; since we were not soon enough to help him in the 
battle, do not let us lessen his glory by approaching the field." 
Now, that was nobly done, especially as Douglas and Ran- 
dolph were always contending which should rise highest in 
the good opinion of the king and the nation. 

The van of the English array now came in sight, and a 
number of their bravest knights drew near to see what the 
Scots were doing. They saw King Robert dressed in his 
armor, and distinguished by a gold crown, which he wore 
over his helmet. He was not mounted on his great war- 
horse, because he did not expect to fight that evening. But 



Bannockburn. 



he rode on a little pony up and down the ranks of his army, 
putting his men in order, and carried in his hand a sort of 
battle-ax made of steel. When the king saw the English 
horsemen draw near he advanced a little before his own men, 
that he might look at them more nearly. There was a 
knight among the English, called Sir Henry de Bohun, who 
thought this would be a good opportunity to gain great fame 
to himself, and put an end to the war, by killing King Rob- 
ert. The king being poorly mounted and having no lance, 
Bohun galloped on him suddenly and furiously, thinking, 
with his long spear and his tall, pov/erful horse, easily to 
bear him down to the ground. King Robert saw him, and 
permitted him to come very near, then suddenly turned his 
pony a little to one side, so that Sir Henry missed him with 
the lance-point, and was in the act of being carried past 
him by the career of his horse. But, as he passed, King 
Robert rose up in his stirrups and struck Sir Henry on the 
head with his battle-ax so terrible a blow, that it broke to 
pieces his iron helmet as if it had been a nut-shell, and 
hurled him from his saddle. He was dead before he reached 
the ground. This gallant action was blamed by the Scot- 
tish leaders, who thought Bruce ought not to have exposed 
himself to so much danger when the safety of the whole 
army depended on him. The king only kept looking at his 
weapon, which Vv'as injured by the force of the blow, and 
said, " I have broken my good battle-ax." 

The next morning, being the 24th of June, at break of 
day, the battle began in terrible earnest. The English, as 
they advanced, saw the Scots getting into line. The Abbot 
of Inchaffray walked through their ranks barefooted, and ex- 
horted them to fight for their freedom. They kneeled down 
as he passed and prayed to heaven for victory. King Ed- 
ward, who saw this, called out, " They kneel down — they are 
asking forgiveness." " Yes," said a celebrated English baron, 
called Ingelram de Umphraville, " but they ask it from God, 



Pictures from English History. 



not from us — these men will conquer, or die upon the 
field." 

The English king ordered his men to begin the battle. 
The archers then bent their bows and began to shoot so 
closely together that the arrows fell likg flakes of snow on a 
Christmas day. They killed many of the Scots, and might, 
as at Falkirk and other places, have decided the victory ; 
but Bruce, as I told you before, was prepared for them. He 
had in readiness a body of men-at-arms, well mounted, who 
rode at full gallop among the archers, and, as they had no 
weapon save their bows and arrows, which they could not 
use when they were attacked hand to hand, they were cut 
down in great numbers by the Scottish horsemen, and thrown 
into total confusion. 

The fine English cavalry then advanced to support their 
archers and to attack the Scottish line. But coming over 
the ground which was dug full of pits, the horses fell into 
these holes, and the riders lay tumbling about without any 
means of defense, and unable to rise from the weight of their 
armor. The Englishmen began to fall into general disorder, 
and the Scottish king, bringing up more of his forces, 
attacked and pressed them still more closely. 

On a sudden, while the battle was obstinately maintained 
on both sides, an event happened which decided the victory. 
The servants and attendants on the Scottish camp had, as I 
told you, been sent behind the army to a place afterward 
called the Gillies' hill. But when they saw that their mas- 
ters were likely to gain the day, they rushed from their place 
of concealment with such weapons as they could get, that 
they might have their share in the victory and in the spoil. 
The English, seeing them come suddenly over the hill, mis- 
took this disorderly rabble for a new army coming up to 
sustain the Scots, and, losing all heart, began to shift every 
man for himself. Edward himself left the field as fast as he 
could ride. A valiant knight. Sir Giles de Argentine, much 



BaNNOCKBURN. 113 



renowned in the wars of Palestine, attended the king till he 
got him out of the press of the combat. But he would re- 
treat no farther. " It is not my custom," he said, " to fly." 
With that he took leave of the king, set spurs to his horse, 
and calling out his war-cry of "Argentine ! Argentine ! " he 
rushed into the thickest of the Scottish ranks and was killed. 

Walter Scott. 



XVI. 
THE BATTLE OF CRESSY. 

[Edward II. was weak, but there was a strong Edward after him as there 
had been one before him. Edward III. was as warlike as the first of that 
name, and more successful. He was in almost continuous war with France 
and Scotland, and gained great advantages over the former. The battle 
of Cressy, (1346,) siege of Calais, (1347,) and battle of Poitiers, (1356,) 
were among the more decisive and brilliant successes — the first and last 
having been fought at odds of«»six or eight to one. Edward invaded 
France in 1346, and after ravaging unopposed to near Paris, he was con- 
fronted by King Philip and a force of about 60,000 French and allies. A 
rapid retreat down the river Somme, and a lucky crossing thereof into 
Ponthieu, an English province, only succeeded in giving Edward a favor- 
able strategic position at Cressy. We take up Froissart's contemporary 
narrative the night before the battle.] 

That night the English king lay in the fields with his host, 
and made a supper to all his chief lords of his host and 
made them good cheer. And when they were all departed 
to take their rest, then the king entered into his oratory, and 
kneeled down before the altar, praying God devoutly that if 
he fought the next day, that he might achieve the journey to 
his honor. Then, about midnight, he laid him down to rest, 
and in the morning he rose betimes, and heard mass, and the 
prince, his son (the Black Prince) with him, and the most 
part of his company were confessed and houseled. And, 
after the mass said, he commanded every man to be armed, 



114 Pictures from English History. 

and to draw to the field, to the same place before appointed. 
Then the king caused a park to be made by the wood-side, 
behind his host, and there was set all carts and carriages, 
and within the park were all their horses, for every man was 
afoot ; and into this park there was but one entry. After ar- 
ranging the army in three battalions, the king leapt on a hob- 
by, with a white rod in his hand, one of his marshals on the 
one hand, and the other on the other hand; he rode from 
rank to rank, desiring every man to take heed that day to his 
right and honor; he spake it so sweetly, and with so good 
countenance and merry cheer, that all such as were dis- 
comfited took courage in the seeing and hearing of him. 
And when he had thus visited all his battles (battalions) it 
was then nine of the day: then he caused every man to eat 
and drink a little, and so they did at their leisure ; and after- 
ward they ordered again their battles. Then every man lay 
down on the earth, and by him his salet and bow, to be 
more fresher when their enemies should come. It was in 



so W'' pro 







/ ^ (I' 



\ 



;\ 



/L ^ 






' / - ,.^ \ n}h-r^i^^. 



\ 



THE BATTLE OF CRESSY. 



The Battle of Cressy. 115 

this position that they were found by the tumultuous French 
array, which came rushing on, crying " Down with them," 
" Let us slay them," in such a manner, that, says Froissart, 
there was no man, though he were present at the journey, 
that could imagine or show the truth of the evil order that 
was among them. The day of this meeting was Saturday, 
August 6, 1346. 

The Englishmen, who were in three battles, lying on the 
ground to rest them, as soon as they saw the Frenchmen ap- 
proach, they rose upon their feet, fair and easily, without any 
haste, and arranged their battles : the first, which was the 
prince's battle; the archers there stood in the manner of a 
herse (harrow), and the men-of-arms in the bottom of the 
battle. The Earl of Northampton and the Earl of Arundel, 
with the second battle, were on a wing in good order, ready 
to comfort the prince's battle, if need were. The lords and 
knights of France came not to the assembly together in good 
order; for some came before, and some came after, in such 
haste and evil order that one of them did trouble another. 
When the French king saw the Englishmen, his blood 
changed, and (he) said to his marshals, " Make the Genoese 
go on before, and begin the battle in the name of God and 
St. Denis." There were of the Genoese cross-bows about 
fifteen thousand; but they were so weary of going a-foot that 
day a six league, armed with their cross-bows, that they said 
to their constables, " We be not well ordered to fight this 
day, for we be not in the case to do any great deed of 
arms, as we have more need of rest." These words came to 
the Duke of Alenpon, who said, "A man is well at e^se to be 
charged with such a sort of rascals, to be faint and fail now 
at most need." Also at the same season there fell a great 
rain and eclipse, with a terrible thunder; and before the rain 
there came flying over both battles a great number of crows, 
for fear of the tempest coming. Then anon the air began to 
wax clear and the sun to shine fair and bright, the which was 



ii6 Pictures from English History. 

right in the Frenchmen's eyes and on the Englishmen's 
backs. When the Genoese were assembled together, and be- 
gan to approach, they made a great leap and cry to abash the 
Englishmen, but they stood still, and stirred not for all that. 
Then the Genoese again the second time made another leap, 
and a fell cry, and stept forward a little, and the Englishmen 
removed not one foot; thirdly, again they leaped and cried, 
and went forth till they came within shot, then they shot 
fiercely with their cross-bows. Then the English archers 
stept forth one pass, (pace,) and let fly their arrows so wholly, 
and so thick, that it seemed snow. When the Genoese felt 
the arrows pressing through heads, arms, and breasts, many 
of them cast down their cross-bows, and did cut their strings, 
and returned discomforted. When the French king saw 
them flee away, he said, " Kill me these rascals ; for they 
shall lett (hinder) and trouble us without reason." Then ye 
should have seen the men-of-arms dash in among them, and 
kill a great number of them; and ever still the Englishmen 
shot whereas they saw thickest press ; the sharp arrows ran 
into the men-of-arms and into their horses, and many fell, 
horse and men, among the Genoese ; and when they were 
down, they could not relyne again, the press was so thick 
that one overthrew another. And also among the English- 
men there were certain rascals that went on foot, with great 
knives, and they went in among the men-of-arms, and slew 
and murdered many as they lay on the ground, both earls, 
barons, knights, and squires, "whereof the King of England 
was after displeased, for he had rather they had been taken 
prisoners. 

The valiant King of Bohemia, called Charles of Luxen- 
bourg, son to the noble Emperor Henry of Luxenbourg, for 
all that he was nigh blind, when he understood the order of 
the battle, he said to them about him, " Where is the Lord 
Charles, my son .'' " His men said, " Sir, we cannot tell, we 
think he be fighting." Then he said, " Sirs, ye are my men, 



The Battle of Cressy. 117 

my companions and friends in this journey ; I require you 
bring me so forward that I may strike one stroke with my 
sword." They said they would do his commandment; and 
to the intent that they might not lose him in the press, they 
tied all the reins of their bridles each to other, and set 
the king before to accomplish his desire, and so they went 
on their enemies. The Lord Charles of Bohemia, his son, 
who wrote himself king of Bohemia, and bare the arms, he 
came in good order to the battle ; but when he saw that the 
matter went awry on their party, he departed, I cannot tell 
you which way. The king, his father, was so far forward, that 
he struck a stroke with his sword, yea, and more than four, 
and fought valiantly, and so did his company, and they ad- 
ventured themselves so forward that they were all slain, and 
the next day they were found in the place about the king, 
and all their horses tied to each other. 

The prince's battalion at one period was very hard 
pressed ; and they with the prince sent a messenger to the 
king, who was on a little windmill-hill ; then the knight said 
to the king, " Sir, the Earl of Warwick, and the Earl of Ox- 
ford, Sir Reynold Cobham, and others, such as be about the 
prince, your son, are fiercely fought withal, and are sore 
handled, wherefore they desire you that you and your battle 
will come and aid them, for if the Frenchmen increase, as 
they doubt they will, your son and they will have much ado." 
Then the king said, " Is my son dead or hurt, or on the earth 
felled.?" "No, sir," quote the knight, "but he is hardly 
matched, wherefore he hath need of your aid." ''Well," 
said the king, " return to him and to them that sent you 
hither, and say to them, that they send no more to me for 
any adventure that faileth, as long as my son is alive ; and 
also say to them, that they suffer him this day to win his 
spurs, for if God be pleased, I will this journey be his, and the 
honor thereof, and to them that be about him." Then the 
knight returned again to them, and showed the king's words, 



ii8 Pictures from English History, 

the which greatly eiicouraged them^ and they repined in that 
they had sent to the king as they did. The King of France 
stayed till the last. It was not until the evening that he 
could be induced to acknowledge' that all was lost. Then, 
when he had left about him no more than a threescore per- 
sons, one and other, whereof Sir John of Reynault was one, 
who had remounted once the king — for his horse was slain 
with an arrow— then he said to the king, " Sir, depart hence, 
for it is time ; lose not yourself willfully ; if ye have loss this 
time, ye shall recover it again another season ; " and so he 
took the king's horse by the bridle and led him away in a 
manner per force. Then the king rode till he came to the 
castle of La Broyes ; the gate was closed, because it was 
by that time dark ; then the king called the captain, who 
came to the walls, and said, " Open your gate quickly, for 
this is the fortune of France." The captain knew then it 
was the king, and opened the gate and let down the bridge; 
then the king entered, and he had with him but five barons, 
Sir John of Reynault and four others. The unhappy king, 
however, could not rest there, but drank and departed hence 
about midnight. 

The recorded results of the battle would seem exagger- 
ations but that they are so well authenticated. Besides the 
King of Bohemia, there perished the Duke of Lorraine, the 
Earl of Alencon, whose overweening pride and impetuosity 
had so much contributed to the fatal result, the Count of 
Flanders, eight other counts, two archbishops, several other 
noblemen, and, it is said, twelve hundred knights and thirty 
thousand common persons. Such was the cost to humanity 
of one day's proceedings in the endeavor to conquer France. 

Canon Froissart. 



The Siege of Calais. 119 

XVII. 

THE SIEGE OF CALAIS. 

[This entrepot of France, after a valiant defense of a year by Sir John 
Vienne, was obliged to treat for capitulation.] 

They within Calais saw well how their succor failed them, 
for the which they were in great sorrow. Then they desired 
so much their captain, Sir John of Vienne, that he went to 
the walls of the town and made a sign to speak with some of 
the host. When the king heard thereof he sent thither Sir 
Walter of Manny and Sir Basset. Then Sir John of Vienne 
said to them : " Sirs, ye be right valiant knights in deeds of 
arms, and ye know well how the king my master hath sent 
me and others to this town, and commanded us to keep it to 
his behoof, in such wise that we take no blame, nor to him 
no damage ; and we have done all that lieth in our power. 
Now our succors hath failed us, and we be so sore strained 
that we have not to live withal, but that we must all die, or 
else enrage for famine, without the noble and gentle king of 
yours will take mercy on us, and to let us go and depart as we 
be, and let him take the town and castle and all the goods 
that be therein, the which is great abundance." 

Then Sir Walter of Manny said : " Sir, we know somewhat 
of the intention of the king our master, for he hath showed 
it unto us. Surely know we for truth it is not his mind 
that ye nor they within the town should depart so, for it is 
his will that ye all should put yourselves into his pure will to 
ransom all such pleaseth him, and to put to death such as he 
list ; for they of Calais had done him such contraries and 
despites, had caused him to dispend so much goods and lost 
many of his inen, that he is sore grieved against them." 
Then the captain said : " Sir, this is too hard a matter to us ; 
we are here within, a small sort (company) of knights and 
squires, who have truly served the king our master, as well as 



Pictures from English History. 



ye serve yours in like case, and we have endured much pain 
and unease ; but we shall yet endure as much pain as ever 
knights did rather than to consent that the worst lad in the 
town should have any more evil than the greatest of us all ; 
therefore, sir, we pray you that of your humility, yet that ye 
will go and speak to the King of England, and desire him 
to have pity of us, for we trust in him so much gentleness, 
that, by the grace of God, his purpose shall change," 

Sir Walter of Manny and Sir Basset returned to the king 
and declared to him all that had been said. The king said 
he would none otherwise, but that they should yield them up 
simply to his pleasure. Then Sir Walter said : " Sir, saving 
your displeasure in this, ye may be in the wrong, for ye shall 
give by this an evil example ; if ye send any of us your 
servants into any fortress, we will not be very glad to go if 
ye put any of them in the town to death after they be yielded, 
for in likewise they will deal with us if the case fell like ; " 
the which words divers other lords that were there present 
sustained and maintained. Then the king said : " Sirs, I 
will not be alone against you all; therefore. Sir Walter 
of Manny, ye shall go and say to the captain that all the 
grace that he shall find now in me is, that they let six of the 
chief burgesses of the town come out bare-headed, bare- 
footed, and bare-legged, and in their shirts, with halters 
about their necks, with the keys of the town and castle in 
their hands, and let them six yield themselves purely to my 
will, and the residue I will take to mercy." 

Then Sir Walter returned, and found Sir John of V^ienne 
still on the wall, abiding of an answer. Then Sir Walter 
showed him all the grace that he could get of the king. 
" Well," quoth Sir John, " sir, I require you tarry here a cer- 
tain space till I go into the town and show this to the com- 
mons of the town who sent me thither." Then Sir John 
went into the market-place and sounded the common bell ; 
then incontinent men and women assembled there. Then 



The Siege of Calais. 



the captain made report of all that he had done, and said, 
" Sirs, it will be none otherwise, therefore take advice and 
make a short answer," Then all the people began to weep 
and make such sorrow, that there was not so hard a heart, 
if they had seen them, but that would have had great pity 
of them : the captain himself wept piteously. At last the 
most rich burgess of all the town, called Eustace de St. 
Pierre, rose up and said openly : " Sirs, great and small, great 
mischief it should be to suffer to die such people as be in 
this town, either by famine or otherwise, when there is a 
mxcan to save them. I think he or they should have great 
merit of our Lord God that might keep them from such mis- 
chief. As for my part, I have so good trust in our Lord 
God, that if I die in the quarrel to save the residue, that God 
would pardon me ; wherefore, to save them I will be the first 
to put my life in jeopardy." When he had thus said every 
man worshiped him, and divers kneeled down at his feet 
with sore weeping and sore sighs. Then another honest 
burgess rose and said, " I will keep company with ray gossip 
Eustace." He was called Jehan d'Aire. Then rose up 
Jacques de Wisant, who was rich in goods and heritage. 
He said also that he would hold company with his two 
cousins in likewise ; so did Peter of Wisant, his brother ; 
and then rose two other ; they said they would do the same. 
Then they went and appareled them as the king desired. 
Then the captain went with thera to the gate. There was 
great lamentation made of men, women, and children at their 
departing. Then the gate was opened and he issued out 
with the six burgesses, and closed the gate again ; so they 
were between the gate and the barriers. Then he said to Sir 
Walter of Manny : " Sir, I deliver here to you, as captain of 
Calais, by the whole consent of all the people of the town, 
these six burgesses, and I swear to you truly that they be, and 
were to-day, most honorable, rich, and most notable bur- 
gesses of all the town of Calais ; wherefore, gentle knight, I 



Pictures from English History. 



require you pray the king to have mercy on them, that they 
die not." 

Quoth Sir Walter, " I cannot say what the king will do, 
but I shall do for them the best I can." Then the barriers 
were opened, the burgesses went toward the king, and the 
captain entered again into the town. 

When Sir Walter presented these burgesses to the king 
they kneeled down and held up their hands and said : " Gen- 
tle king, behold here we six, who were burgesses of Calais 
and great merchants. We have brought the keys of the town 
and of the castle, and we submit ourselves clearly into your 
will and pleasure, to save the residue of the people of Calais, 
who have suffered great pain. Sir, Ave beseech your grace 
to have mercy and pity on us through your high nobles." 
Then all the earls and barons and other that were there 
wept for pity. The king looked felly [savagely or vindic- 
tively] on them, for greatly he hated the people of Calais for 
the great damage and displeasures they had done him on the 
sea before. Then he commanded their heads to be stricken 
off. Then every man required the king for mercy, but he 
would hear no man in that behalf. 

Then Sir Walter of Manny said : " Ah, noble king, for 
God's sake refrain your courage ; ye have the name of sov- 
ereign noblesse ; therefore, now do not a thing that should 
blemish your renown, nor to give a cause to some to speak 
of you villainously ; every man will say it is a great cruelty 
to put to death such honest persons, who by their own wills 
put themselves into your grace to save their company." 
Then the king wryed away from him, and commanded to 
send for the hangman, and said, " They of Calais have caused 
many of my men to be slaine, wherefore these shall die in 
likewise." 

Then the queen, being great with child, kneeled down, 
and, sore weeping, said : " Ah, gentle sir, sith I passed the 
sea in great peril I have desired nothing of you ; therefore, 



The Siege of Calais. 123 

now I humbly require you, in the honor of the Son of the 
Virgin Mary, and for the love of me, that ye will take mercy 
of these six burgesses." 

The king beheld the queen, and stood still in a study a 
space, and then said : " Ah, dame, I would ye had been as 
now in some other place ; ye make such request to me that 
I cannot deny you, wherefore I give them to you to do your 
pleasure with them." 

Then the queen caused them to be brought into her 
chamber, and made the halters to be taken from their necks, 
and caused them to be new clothed, and gave them their 
dinner at their leisure, and then she gave each of them six 
nobles, and made them to be brought out of the host in 
safe-guard, and set at their liberty. 

Canon Froissart. 



124 



Pictures from English History. 



XVIII; 



THE PEASANT RISING. 

[The last years of Edward III.'s reign v/ere as ignominious and troubled 
as its zenith had been glorious and successful ; and his grandson, Rich- 
ard II., a boy of eleven, succeeded to a State impoverished by long wars, 
ground under taxation, and a court divided by unscrupulous cabals. At 
an unfortunate moment, in these evil times, a poll-tax was ordered on 
every man and woman and child above the age of 14 ; an unequal bur- 
den, and one that was unequally and ruthlessly collected. During all 
these times a class of open-air preachers had gone about declaring new 
doctrines of popular rights, and in 1381 the villains and laborers rose in 
the Peasant Revolt.] 

As the spring went by quaint 
rhymes passed through the coun- 
try, and served as a summons 
to revolt. " John Ball," ran one, 
" greeteth you all, and doth for 
to understand he hath rung your 
bell. Now right and might, will 
and skill, God speed every dele." 
*' Help truth," ran another, " and 
truth shall help you ! Now 
reigneth pride in price, and cov- 
etise is counted wise, and lechery 
withouten shame, and gluttony withouten blame. Envy 
reigneth with treason, and sloth is take in great season. 
God do bote, for now is tyme ! " We recognize Ball's hand 
in the yet more stirring missives of " Jack the Miller " and 
" Jack the Carter," " Jack Miller asketh help to turn his 
mill aright. He hath grounden small, small : the King's Son 
of Heaven he shall pay for all. Look thy mill go aright with 
the four sailes, and the post stand with steadfastness. With 
right and with might, with skill and with will ; let might help 
right, and skill go before will, and right before might, so 




RICHARD II. 



The Peasant Rising. 125 

goeth our mill aright.'' " Jack Carter," ran the companion 
missive, " prays you all that ye make a good end of that ye 
ha/e begun, and do well, and aye better and better: for at 
the even men heareth the day." " Falseness and guile," 
sang Jack Trewman, " have reigned too long, and truth hath 
been set under a lock, and falseness and guile reigneth in 
every stock. No man may come truth to, but if he sing ' si 
dedero.' True love is away that was so good, and clerks for 
wealth work them woe. God do bote, for now is time." In 
the rude jingle of these lines began for England the litera- 
ture of political controversy ; they are the first predecessors 
of the pamphlets of Milton and of Burke. Rough as they 
are, they express clearly enough the mingled passions which 
met in the revolt of the peasants ; their longing for a right 
rule, for plain and simple justice; their scorn of the immo- 
rality of the nobles and the infamy of the court ; their resent- 
ment at the perversion of the law to the cause of oppression. 
From the eastern and midland counties the restlessness 
spread to all England south of the Thames. But the grounds 
of discontent varied with every district. The actual out- 
break began on the 5th of June at Dartford, where a tiler 
killed one of the collectors of the poll-tax in vengeance for a 
brutal outrage on his daughter. The county at once rose in 
arms. Canterbury, where " the whole town was of their 
mind," threw open its gates to the insurgents who plundered 
the archbishop's palace and dragged John Ball from prison. 
A hundred thousand Kentishmen gathered around Walter 
Tyler of Essex and John Hales of Mailing to march upon 
London. Their grievance was mainly a political one. Vil- 
lainage was unknown in Kent. As the peasants poured to- 
ward Blackheath indeed every lawyer who fell into their 
hands was put to death ; " not till all these were killed would 
the land enjoy its old freedom again," the Kentishmen 
shouted, as they fired the houses of the stewards, and flung 
the rolls of the manor-courts into the flames. But this action 



126 Pictures from English History. 

can hardly have been due to any thing more than sym- 
pathy with the rest of the reahii — the sympathy which in- 
duced the same men, when pilgrims from the north brought 
news that John of Gaunt was setting free his bondmen, to 
send to the duke an offer to make him lord and king of En- 
gland. Nor was their grievance a religious one. Lollardry 
can have made little way among men whose grudge against 
the Archbishop of Canterbury sprang from his discouragement 
of pilgrimages. Their discontent was simply political ; they 
demanded the suppression of the poll-tax, and better govern- 
ment ; their aim was to slay the nobles and wealthier clergy, 
to take the king into their own hands, and pass laws which 
should seem good to the Commons of the realm. 

The whole population joined the Kentishmen as they 
marched along, while the nobles were paralyzed with fear. 
The young king — he was but a boy of sixteen — addressed 
them from a boat on the river ; but the refusal of his coun- 
cil, under the guidance of Archbishop Sudbury, to allow him 
to land kindled the peasants to fury, and with cries of 
"Treason" the great mass rushed on London. On the 13th 
of June its gates were flung open by the poorer artisans 
within the city, and the stately palace of John of Gaunt at 
the Savoy, the new inn of the lawyers at the Temple, the 
houses of the foreign merchants, were soon in a blaze. But 
the insurgents, as they proudly boasted, were " seekers of 
truth and justice, not thieves or robbers," and a plunderer 
found carrying off a silver vessel from the sack of the Savoy 
was flung with his spoil into the flames. Another body of 
insurgents encamped at the same time to the east of the city. 
In Essex and the eastern counties the popular discontent 
was more social than political. The demands of the peas- 
ants were that bondage should be abolished, that tolls and 
imposts on trade should be done away with, that "no acre of 
land which is held in bondage or villainage be held at higher 
rate than four pence a year;" in other words, for a money 



'''/Mi 
SI, 

'ii i' i' iii'i I'lJi' 

,|'h"|:' I 

I I 
',1 'h'l 1 1, 




"^l$^?^s 






i\/,i',' j|),ii|i --^:>- 
i/// i#''' 










III I'l, I 












'im^^^ 






f!t 



i 



' r 



,i'.''i„i I III 1 1 

I ,, , ll 
,'V ii'i'', 




The Peasant Rising. 127 

commutation of all villain services. Their uprising had been 
even earlier than that of the Kentishmen. Before Whit- 
suntide an attempt to levy the poll-tax gathered crowds of 
peasants together, armed with clubs, rusty swords, and bows. 
The royal commissioners who were sent to repress the tumult 
were driven from the field, and the Essex men marched upon 
London on one side of the river as the Kentishmen marched 
on the other. The evening of the 13th of June, the day 
on which Tyler entered the city, saw them encamped with- 
out its walls at Mile-end. At the same moment Highbury 
and the northern heights were occupied by the men of 
Hertfordshire and the villains of St. Albans, where a strife 
between abbot and town had been going on since the days 
of Edward II. 

The royal Council, with the young king, had taken refuge 
in the Tower, and their aim seems to have been to divide 
the forces of the insurgents. On the morning of the 14th, 
therefore, Richard rode from the Tower to Mile-end to 
meet the Essex men. " I am your king and lord, good 
people," the boy began, with a fearlessness which marked his 
bearing throughout the crisis, " what will you.? " "We will 
that you free us forever," shouted the peasants, "us and our 
lands; and that we be never named nor held for serfs ! " "I 
grant it," replied Richard; and he bade them go home, 
pledging himself at once to issue charters of freedom and am- 
nesty. A shout of joy welcomed the promise. Throughout 
the day more than thirty clerks were busied writing letters of 
pardon and emancipation, and with these the mass of the 
Essex men and the men of Hertfordshire withdrew quietly to 
their homes. But while the king was successful at Mile-end 
a terrible doom had fallen on the councilors he left behind 
him. Richard had hardly quitted the Tower when the 
Kentishmen, who had spent the night within the city, ap- 
peared at its gates. The general terror was shown ludicrous-, 
ly enough when they burst in, and taking the panic-stricken 



128 Pictures from English History. 



knights of the royal household in^ rough horse-play by the 
beard promised to be their equals and good comrades in the 
days to come. But the horse-play changed into dreadful 
earnest when they found that Richard had escaped their 
grasp, and the discovery of Archbishop Sudbury and other 
ministers in the chapel changed their fury into a cry for 
blood. The primate was dragged from his sanctuary and be- 
headed. The same vengeance was wreaked upon the treas- 
urer and the chief commissioner for the levy of the hated 
poll-tax, the merchant Richard Lyons who had been im- 
peached by the Good Parliament. 

Richard meanwhile had ridden round the northern wall 
of the city to the Wardrobe, near Blackfriars, and from this 
new refuge he opened his negotiations with the Kentish in- 
surgents. Many of these dispersed at the news of the king's 
pledge to the men of Essex, but a body of thirty thousand 
still surrounded Wat Tyler when Richard, on the morning 
of the 15th, encountered that leader, by a mere chance, at 
Smithfield. Hot words passed between his train and the 
peasant chieftain, who advanced to confer with the king, and 
a threat from Tyler brought on a brief struggle in which the 
Mayor of London, William Walworth, struck him with his 
dagger to the ground. " Kill ! kill ! " shouted the crowd, 
" they have slain our captain ! " But Richard faced the 
Kentishmen with the same cool courage with which he faced 
the men of Essex. "What need ye, my masters ? " cried the 
boy-king, as he rode boldly up to the front of the bow-men. 
" I am your captain and your king; follow me ! " The hopes 
of the peasants centered in the young sovereign ; one aim of 
their rising had been to free him from the evil counselors 
who, as they believed, abused his youth; and at his word 
they followed him with a touching loyalty and trust till he 
entered the Tower. His mother welcomed him within its 
walls with tears of joy. " Rejoice and praise God," Richard 
answered, " for I have recovered to-day my heritage which 



The Peasant Rising. 



129 



was lost and the realm of England ! " But he was compelled 
to give the same pledge of freedom to the Kentishmen as at 
Mile-end, and it was only after receiving his letters of pardon 
and emancipation that the yeomen dispersed to their homes. 

John Richard Green. 



XIX. 
WYCLIFFE AND THE LOLLARDS. 

[Richard was dethroned by his cousin, Henry of Lancaster, who became 
Henry IV., the first of the House of Lancaster, as Richard was the last 
Plantagenet. During these two reigns Wycliffe lived and laid the seeds 
of reformation ; Chaucer wrote his stinging satires on the corruptions of 
the Church ; and the sect of Lollards flourished. Henry had purchased 
the aid of the Church to his usurpation by promising to suppress this sect, 
and his reign is balefuUy distinguished by the beginning of religious per- 
secutions in England.] 

In 1356 Wycliffe began his ca- 
reer as an ecclesiastical reformer, 
by writing his treatise called 
" The Last Ages of the Church." 
In 1365 the pope having de- 
manded the arrears of the trib- 
ute known as " Peter's pence," 
it was refused by the Parliament, 
and Wycliffe strenuously sup- 
ported this resistance to the de- 
mand. But there was something 
more formidable to the papal 
authority, and to the system which was founded upon it, than 
the acts of the legislature. There was a public opinion 
forming, which, before the circulation of books by printing, 
and with the imperfect communication of one district -with 
another, was diffused in a very remarkable way through the 




HENRY IV, 



Pictures from English History. 



country. A general feeling begaft to spread that the Church 
dignitaries and the religious orders were more intent upon 
their own aggrandizement and the gratification of their own 
luxury, than the upholding of the faith and duties' of the 
Gospel. The mass of the people were ignorant of the essen- 
tials of religion, though they bowed before its forms. In the 
universities there were young men who were like Chaucer's 
clerk : 

" Sounding in moral virtue was his speech, 
And gladly would he learn, and gladly teach." 

To such the covert licentiousness of the monks and the open 
profligacy of the mendicant orders was a deep humiliation. 
They went forth, each to his small country cure, to speak of 
a holier religion than belonged to the worship of relics or the 
purchase of indulgences. The sumptnours, who were the 
ministers of the extortions of the ecclesiastical courts, and 
the pardoners, who hawked about dispensations for sin, were 
their especial aversion. The satire of Chaucer was a reflec- 
tion of the prevailing estimate of the monk, "full, fat, and in 
good point ; " of the friar, " a wanton and a merry ; " of the 
sumptnour, who thought " a man's soul was in his purse ; " of 
the pardoner, with his wallet " full of pardon come from Rome 
all hot." In their sermons secular priests now freely quoted 
the Holy Scriptures in the common tongue ; and they looked 
forward to the work which their great leader, Wycliffe, the 
honored professor of theology at Oxford, was preparing — the 
translation into English of Christ's Testament. His citation 
for heresy in the last year of Edward III. was the tribute to 
his importance. In a few years the preaching of Wycliffe and 
his disciples would go through the land, scattering the cor- 
ruptions of the Church with a power that for a time seemed 
likely to shake the whole fabric of society. The age wa^ not 
ripe for the great Reformation that then seemed impending. 
But out of Wycliffe's rectory of Lutterworth seeds were to be 



WyCLIFFE AND THE LOLLARDS. I3I 

borne upon the wind which would abide in the earth till they 
sprang up into the stately growth of other centuries. . . . 

Within a few months after the accession of Richard II., 
the Rector of Lutterworth, in consequence of letters from the 
pope, was summoned before the Archbishop of Canterbury 
and the Bishop of London, to answer for his opinions. He 
defended his doctrines, and was dismissed, with a direction 
to be cautious for the future. After the insurrection of 1381 
had been quelled, a synod of divines was called, in which 
many of Wycliffe's opinions were censured as heretical, er- 
roneous, and of dangerous tendency, , . . He was at last com- 
pelled to submit himself to the judgment of his ordinary, and 
he withdrew to his rectory. But he had accomplished a 
work which no ecclesiastical censure could set aside. He 
had translated the Scriptures into the English language. 
Whenever he and his disciples were assailed by the higher 
ecclesiastics, he had appealed to the Bible. His translation 
of the Bible was now multiplied by the incessant labor of 
transcribers. The texts of the Bible were in every mouth as 
they were re-echoed in the sermons of his preachers in 
churches and open places. The poor treasured up the 
words of comfort for all earthly afflictions. The rich and 
great meditated upon the inspired sentences which so clearly 
pointed out a more certain road to salvation than could be 
found through indulgences and pilgrimages. During the re- 
maining years of the fourteenth century the principles of the 
Lollards took the deepest root in the land. Wycliffe died in 
1384, but his preaching never died. His Bible was pro- 
scribed; his votaries were imprisoned and burned, but the 
sacred flame was never extinguished. The first English re- 
former appeared in an age when civil freedom asserted itself 
with a strength which was never afterward subdued or mate- 
rially weakened. He fought a brave fight for religious free- 
dom with very unequal forces against a most powerful hie- 
rarchy. But such contests are not terminated in a few years. 



132 Pictures from English History. 

The reforms which in the eternal -laws are willed to be 
permanent are essentially of slow growth. When the "poor 
preachers " had slept for a century and a half their day of 
triumph was at hand. . . . 

The execrable laws against the preachers of the **new 
doctrines " had not prevented the tenets of Wycliffe from 
spreading through the nation and beyond the narrow bounds 
of our island. It was a period of alarm for popes and prel- 
ates, and for all those who considered that the Church was 
properly built upon a foundation of worldly riches and do- 
minion. John Huss, a Bohemian priest, had become ac- 
quainted with the writings of Wycliffe, and he boldly preached 
the same doctrines as early as 1405. In 1414 the Council of 
Constance held its first sitting, and Huss was summoned be- 
fore it to declare his opinions. The brave man knew that he 
went at the risk of his life. He died at the stake in 1415. 
The same council decreed that the body of Wycliffe should 
be " taken from the ground, and thrown far away from the 
burial of any church." It was thirteen years before this 
miserable vengeance was carried into effect, by disinterring 
and burning our first English reformer's body, throwing his 
ashes into a brook. ' " The brook did convey his ashes into 
Avon ; Avon into Severn ; Severn into the narrow seas ; they 
into the main ocean. And thus the ashes of Wycliffe are the 
emblem of his doctrine, which is now dispersed all the world 
over." 

But in the first year of Henry V. the prelates sought to 
strike a more effectual terror into the followers of Wycliffe 
than could be accomplished by any insult to his memory. 
They resolved to take measures against one of the most 
powerful supporters of the Lollards, Sir John Oldcastle, 
called Lord Cobham. He had been the private friend of 
the king when prince of Wales ; and Henry in the honest de- 
sire, as we may believe, to avert the consequences of ecclesi- 
astical vengeance, tried to induce Oldcastle to recant. He was 



Wycliffe and the Lollards. 



^33 



y^. 



inflexible ; and the king then caused him to be arrested. On 
the 25th of September the undaunted knight was brought be- 
fore the synod, and there pleaded 
his cause with a vigor and abil- 
ity which have made him mem- 
orable among the martyrs of the 
Reformation. He was con- 
demned as a heretic, and was 
handed over to the secular 
power. The king granted his 
ancient friend a respite of fifty 
days from the fiery penalty which 
awaited him, and during that 
period Oldcastle escaped from 
his prison in the Tower. The 
danger to which their leader had 
been exposed, and the severities 
which appeared preparing for 
those who held to their consci- 
entious opinions, precipitated the 
Lollards into a movement which 
made the State as anxious for 
their suppression as was the 
Church. Rumors went forth of 
a fearful plot to destroy all re- 
ligion and law in England ; and, 
in the overthrow of king, lords, and clergy to make all prop- 
erty in common. Within a few months a pardon was pro- 
claimed to all the Lollards for the conspiracy, excepting 
Oldcastle and eleven others. Still prosecutions went on ; 
and it is remarkable that the king pardoned many so prose- 
cuted, after they had been convicted. The general body of 
Lollards were grievously punished for the indiscretion of 
some of their number. A new statute was passed, giving all 




A LOLLARD AT THE STAKE. 



judges and magistrates power to arrest all persons suspected 



134 Pictures from English History. 

of Lollardism, binding them by oatTi to do their utmost to 
root up the heresy, and enacting that in addition to capital 
punishment the lands and goods of such convicted heretics 
should be forfeited to the king. It was three years before 
the vengeance of the Church fell upon Oldcastle. He was 
taken in 141 8, while Henry was in France, and was burned, 
under the declaration of the archbishop and his provincial 
synod that he was an incorrigible heretic. 

Charles Knight. 



XX. 

RISE OF ENGLAND UNDER THE PLANTAGENETS. 

[The following summary of the development of the English people is 
one of the finest productions of Macaulay's graphic pen.] 

Had the Plantagenets, as at one time seemed likely, suc- 
ceeded in uniting all Finance under their government, it is 
probable that England would never have had an independent 
existence. Her princes, her prelates, her lords, would have 
been men differing in race and language from the artisans 
and the tillers of the earth. The revenues of her great 
proprietors would have been spent in festivities and diver- 
sions on the banks of the Seine. The noble language of 
Milton and Burke would have remained a rustic dialect, 
without a literature, a fixed grammar, or a fixed orthogra- 
phy, and would have been contemptuously abandoned to the 
use of boors. No man of English extraction would have 
risen to eminence, except by becoming in speech and habits 
a Frenchman. 

England owes her escape from such calamities to an event 
which her historians have generally represented as disas- 
trous. Her interest was so directly opposed to the interest 
of her rulers, that she had no hope but in their errors and 



Rise of England Under the Plantagenets. 135 

misfortunes. The talents and even the virtues of her first six 
French kings were a curse to her. The follies and vices of 
the seventh were her salvation. Had John inherited the 
great qualities of his father, of Henry Beauclerc, or of the 
Conqueror, nay, had he even possessed the martial courage 
of Stephen or of Richard, and had the King of France at 
the same time been as incapable as all the other successors 
of Hugh Capet had been, the house of Plantagenet must 
have risen to unrivaled ascendency in Europe. But, just at 
this conjuncture, France, for the first time since the death 
of Charlemagne, was governed by a prince of great firmness 
and ability. On the other hand, England, which, since the 
battle of Hastings, had been ruled generally by wise states- 
men, always by brave soldiers, fell under the dominion of a 
trifler and a coward. From that moment her prospects 
brightened. John was driven from Normandy. The Nor- 
man nobles were compelled to make their election between 
the island and the continent. Shut up by the sea with the 
people whom they had hitherto oppressed and despised, they 
gradually came to regard England as their country, and the 
English as their countrymen. The two races, so long hostile, 
soon found that they had common interests and common 
enemies. Both were alike aggrieved by the tyranny of a bad 
king. Both were alike indignant at the favor shown by the 
court to the natives of Poitou and Aquitaine. The great- 
grandsons of those who had fought under William and the 
great-grandsons of those who had fought under Harold be- 
gan to draw near to each other in friendship, and the first 
pledge of their reconciliation was the Great Charter, won by 
their united exertions, and framed for their common benefit. 
Here commences the history of the English nation. The 
history of the preceding events is the history of wrongs in- 
flicted and sustained by various tribes, which, indeed, all 
dwelt on English ground, but which regarded each other 
with aversion, such as has scarcely ever existed between 



136 Pictures from English History. 

communities separated by physical 'barriers ; for even the 
mutual animosity of countries at war with each other is lan- 
guid when compared with the animosity of nations which, 
morally separated, are yet locally intermingled. In no coun- 
try has the enmity of race been carried farther than in En- 
gland. In no country has that enmity been more completely 
effaced. The stages of the process by which the hostile ele- 
ments were melted down into one homogeneous mass are 
not accurately known to us. But it is certain that, when 
John became king, the distinction between Saxons and Nor- 
mans was strongly marked, and that before the end of the 
reign of his grandson it had almost disappeared. In the 
time of Richard I. the ordinary imprecation of a Norman 
gentleman was, " May I become an Englishman ! " His or- 
dinary form of indignant denial was, " Do you take me for 
an Englishman } " The descendants of such a gentleman, a 
hundred years later, was proud of the English name. 

The sources of the noblest rivers, which spread fertility 
over continents, and bear richly-laden fleets to the sea, are 
to be sought in wild and barren mountain tracts, incorrectly 
laid down in maps, and rarely explored by travelers. To 
such a tract the history of our country during the thirteenth 
century may not unaptly be compared. Sterile and obscure 
as is that portion of our annals, it is there that we must seek 
for the origin of our freedom, our prosperity, and our glory. 
Then it was that the great English people was formed, that 
the national character began to exhibit those peculiarities 
which it has ever since retained, and that our fathers became 
emphatically islanders ; islanders not merely in geographical 
position, but in their politics, their feelings, and their man- 
ners. Then first appeared with distinctness that Constitu- 
tion which has ever since, through all changes, preserved its 
identity ; that Constitution of which all the other free con- 
stitutions in the world are copies, and which, in spite of 
some defects, deserves to be regarded as the best under 



Rise of England Under the Plantagenets. .137 

which any great society has ever yet existed during many 
ages. Then it was that the House of Commons, the arche- 
type of all the representative assemblies which now meet, 
either in the Old or in the New World, held its first sittings. 
Then it was that the common law rose to the dignity of a 
science, and rapidly became a not unworthy rival of the im- 
perial jurisprudence. Then it was that the courage of those 
sailors who manned the rude barks of the Cinque Ports first 
made the flag of England terrible on the seas. Then it was 
that the most ancient colleges which still exist at both the 
great national seats of learning were founded. Then was 
formed that language, less musical, indeed, than the languages 
of the South, but in force, in richness, in aptitude for all the 
highest purposes of the poet, the philosopher, and the ora- 
tor, inferior to that of Greece alone. Then, too, appeared 
the first faint dawn of that noble literature, the most 
splendid and the most durable of the many glories of 
England. 

Early in the fourteenth century the amalgamation of the 
races was all but complete ; and it was soon made manifest 
by signs not to be mistaken, that a people inferior to none 
existing in the world had been formed by the mixture of 
three branches of the great Teutonic family with each other 
and with the aboriginal Britons. There was, indeed, scarcely 
any thing in common between the England to which John 
had been chased by Philip Augustus, and the England from 
which the armies of Edward HI. went forth to conquer 
France. 

A period of more than a hundred years followed, during 
which the chief object of the English was to establish, by 
force of arms, a great empire on the Continent. . . . The 
greatest victories recorded in the history of the Middle Ages 
were gained at this time, against great odds, by the English 
armies. Victories indeed they were of which a nation may 
justly be proud ; for they are to be attributed to the moral 



138 Pictures from English History. 

superiority of the victors, a superiority which was most strik- 
ing in the lowest ranks. The knights of England found wor- 
thy rivals in the knights of France. Chandos encountered 
an equal foe in Du Guesclin ; but France had no infantry 
that dared to face the English bows and bills. A French 
king was brought prisoner to London. An English king was 
crowned at Paris. The banner of Saint George was carried 
far beyond the Pyrenees and the Alps. On the south of the 
Ebro the English won a great battle which, for a time, de- 
cided the fate of Leon and Castile ; and the English compa- 
nies obtained a terrible pre-eminence among the bands of 
warriors who let out their weapons for hire to the princes and 
commonwealths of Italy. 

Nor were the arts of peace neglected by our fathers during 
that stirring period. While France was wasted by war till 
she at length found in her own desolation a miserable defense 
against invaders, the English gathered in their harvests, 
adorned their cities, pleaded, traded, and studied in security. 
Many of our noblest architectural monuments belong to that 
age. Then rose the fair chapels of New College and of Saint 
George, the nave of Winchester and the choir of York, the 
spire of Salisbury and the majestic towers of Lincoln. A 
copious and forcible language, formed by an infusion of 
Norman-French into German, was now the common property 
of the aristocracy and of the people. Nor was it long be- 
fore genius began to apply that admirable machine to worthy 
purposes. While English battalions, leaving behind them the 
devastated provinces of France, entered Valladolid in tri- 
umph and spread terror to the gates of Florence, English 
poets depicted in vivid tints all the wide variety of human 
manners and fortunes, and English thinkers aspired to know, 
or dared to doubt, where bigots had been content to wonder 
and to believe. The same age which produced the Black 
Prince and Derby, Chandos and Hawkwood, produced also 
Geoffrey Chaucer and John Wycliffe. 



Rise of England Under the Plantagenets. 139 

In so splendid and imperial a manner did the English 
people, properly so-called, first take place among the nations 
of the world, 

Thomas Babington Macaulay. 



XXI. 

THE BATTLE OF AGINCOURT. 

[The reign of Henry IV. was a continued struggle against domestic 
foes. His son, Henry V., preferred to unite England in a foreign war, 
and he revived the old quarrel with France. On the 14th of August, 1414, 
his army landed at the mouth of the Seine.] 

With an army in all of thirty thousand men he besieged the 
town of Harfleur, both by sea and land, for five weeks ; at 
the end of which time the town surrendered, and the inhab- 
itants were allowed to depart with only fivepence each and a 
part of their clothes. All the rest of their possessions were 
divided among the English army. But that army suffered so 
much, in spite of its successes, from disease and privation, 
that it was already reduced One half. Still, the king was 
determined not to retire until he had struck a greater blow. 
Therefore, against the advice of all his counselors, he moved 
on with his little force toward Calais. When he came up to 
the river Somme he was unable to cross, in consequence of 
the ford being fortified ; and, as the English moved up the 
left bank of the river, looking for a crossing, the French, 
who had broken all the bridges, moved up the right bank, 
watching them, and waiting to attack them when they should 
try to pass it. At last the English foand a crossing, and got 
safely over. The French held a council of war at Rouen, 
resolved to give the English battle, and sent heralds to King 
Henry to know by which road he was going. " By the road 



I40 Pictures from English History. 

that will take me straight to Calais ! " said the king, and sent 
them away with a present of a hundred crowns. 

The English moved on until they beheld the French, and 
then the king gave orders to form in line of battle. The 
French not coming on, the army broke up after remaining 
in battle array till night, and got good rest and refreshment 
at a neighboring village. The French were now all lying in 
another village, through which they knew the English must 
pass. They were resolved that the English- should begin 
the battle. The English had no means of retreat, if their 
king had any such intention ; and so the two armies passed 
the night close together. 

To understand these armies well, you must bear in mind 
that the immense French army had, among its notable persons, 
almost the whole of that wicked nobility whose debauchery 
had made France a desert; and so besotted were they by 
pride and by contempt for the common people, that they 
had scarcely any bowmen (if, indeed, they had any at all) in 
their whole enormous number, which, compared with the En- 
glish army, was at least as six to one. For these proud fools 
had said that the bow was not a fit weapon for knightly 
hands, and that France must be defended by gentlemen only. 
We shall see, presently, what hand the gentlemen made 
of it. 

Now, on the English side, among the little force, there was 
a good proportion of men who were not gentlemen by any 
means, but who were good stout archers for all that. Among 
them in the morning — having slept little at night, while the 
French were carousing and making sure of victory — the 
king rode on a gray horse, wearing on his head a helmet of 
shining steel, surmounted by a crown of gold, sparkling with 
precious stones, and bearing over his armor, embroidered 
together, the arms of England and the arms of France. The 
archers looked at the shining helmet and the crown of gold 
and the sparkling jewels, and admired them all; but what 



The Battle of Agincourt, 141 

they admired most was the king's cheerful face and his 
bright blue eye, as he told them that, for himself, he had 
made up his mind to conquer there or to die there, and that 
England should never have a ransom to pay for hhn. There 
was one brave knight who chanced to say that he wished 
some of the many gallant gentlemen and good soldiers who 
were then idle at home in England, were there to increase 
their numbers. But the king told him that, for his part, he 
did not wish for one more man. " The fewer we have," said 
he, " the greater will be the honor we shall win ! " His men, 
being now all in good heart, were refreshed with bread and 
wine, and heard prayers, and waited quietly for the French. 
The king waited for the French because they were drawn up 
thirty deep (the little English force was only three deep) on 
very difficult and heavy ground, and he knew that, when they 
moved, there must be confusion among them. 

As they did not move he sent off two parties : one to lie 
concealed in a wood on the left of the French, the other to 
set fire to some houses behind the French after the battle 
should be begun. This was scarcely done when three of the 
proud French gentlemen, who were to defend their country 
without any help from the base peasants, came riding out, 
calling upon the English to surrender. The king himself 
warned those gentlemen to retire with all speed if they cared 
for their lives, and ordered the English banners to advance. 
Upon that Sir Thomas Erpingham, the great English general, 
who commanded the archers, threv/ his truncheon into the 
air joyfully ; and all the Englishmen, kneeling down upon 
the ground, and biting it as if they took possession of the 
country, rose up with a great shout and fell upon the 
French. 

Every archer was furnished with a great stake tipped with 
iron, and his orders were to thrust this stake into the ground, 
to discharge his arrow, and then fall back when the French 
horsemen came on. As the haughty French gentlemen, who 



142 Pictures from English History. 

were to break the English archers and utterly destroy them 
with their knightly lances, came riding up, they were re- 
ceived with such a blinding storm of arrows that they broke 
and turned. Horses and men rolled over one another, and 
the confusion was terrific. Those who rallied and charged 
the archers got among the stakes on slippery and boggy 
ground, and were so bewildered that the English archers — ■ 
who wore no armor, and even took off their leathern coats 
to be more active — cut them to pieces, root and branch. 
Only three French horsemen got within the stakes, and were 
instantly dispatched. All this time the dense French army, 
being in armor, were sinking knee-deep into the mire, while 
the light English archers, half naked, were as fresh and active 
as if they were fighting on a marble floor. 

But now the second division of the French, coming to the 
relief of the first, closed up in a firm mass ; the English, 
headed by the king, attacked them ; and the deadliest part 
of the battle began. The king's brother, the Duke of Clar- 
ence, was struck down, and numbers of the French sur- 
rounded him ; but King Henry, standing over the body, 
fought like a lion until they were beaten off. 

Presently came up a band of eighteen French knights, 
bearing the banner of a certain French lord, who had sworn 
to kill or take the English king. One of them struck him 
such a blow with a battle-ax that he reeled and fell upon his 
knees ; but his faithful men, immediately closing round him, 
killed every one of those eighteen knights, and so that French 
lord never kept his oath. 

The French Duke of Alen^on, seeing this, made a desper- 
ate charge, and cut his way close up to the royal standard 
of England. He beat down the Duke of York, who was 
standing near it ; and, when the king cam.e to his rescue, 
struck off a piece of the crown he wore. But he never 
struck another blow in this world ; for, even as he was in the 
act of saying who he was, and that he surrendered to the 



The Battle of Agincourt. 143 

king, and even as the king stretched out his hand to give 
him a safe and honorable acceptance of the offer, he fell 
dead, pierced by innumerable wounds. 

The death of this nobleman decided the battle. The 
third division of the French army, which had never struck a 
blow yet, and which was, in itself, more than double the whole 
English power, broke and fled. At this time of the fight the 
English, who as yet had made no prisoners, began to take 
them in immense numbers, and were still occupied in doing 
so, or in killing those who would not surrender, when a great 
noise arose in the rear of the French — their flying banners 
were seen to stop — and King Henry, supposing a great re- 
enforcement to have arrived, gave orders that all the prisoners 
should be put to death. As soon, however, as it was found 
that the noise was only occasioned by a body of plundering 
peasants, the terrible massacre was stopped. 

Then King Henry called to him the French herald and 
asked him to whom the victory belonged. 

The herald replied, "To the King of England." 

" We have not made this havoc and slaughter," said the 
king. "It is the wrath of heaven on the sins of France. 
What is the name of that castle yonder ? " 

The herald answered him, " My lord, it is the castle of 
Azincourt." 

Said the king, " From henceforth this battle shall be known 
to posterity by the name of the battle of Azincourt." 

Our English historians have made it Agincourt ; but, under 
that name, it will ever be famous in English annals. 

The loss upon the French side was enormous. Three 
dukes were killed, two more were taken prisoners ; seven 
counts were killed, three more were taken prisoners, and ten 
thousand knights and gentlemen were slain upon the field. 
The English loss amounted to sixteen hundred men, among 
whom were the Duke of York and the Earl of Suffolk. 

War is a dreadful thing ; and it is appalling to know how 



144 Pictures from English History. 

the English were obliged, next morning, to kill those prison- 
ers mortally wounded who yet writhed in agony upon the 
ground ; how the dead upon the French side were stripped 
by their own countrymen and countrywomen, and afterward 
buried in great pits ; how the dead upon the English side 
were piled up in a great barn, and how their bodies and the 
barn were all burned together. It is in such things, and in 
many more much too horrible to relate, that the real desola- 
tion and wickedness of war consist. Nothing can make war 
otherwise than horrible. But the dark side of it was little 
thought of, and soon forgotten ; and it cast no shade of 
trouble on the English people, except on those who had lost 
friends or relations in the fight. They welcomed their king 
home with shouts of rejoicing, and plunged into the water 
to bear him ashore on their shoulders, and flocked out in 
crowds to welcome him in every town through which he 
passed, and hung rich carpets and tapestries out of the 
windows, and strewed the streets with flowers, and made the 
fountains run with wine, as the great field of Agincourt had 
run with blood. 

Charles Dickens. 



The Wars of the Roses. 145 

XXII. 

THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 

[The sudden death of Henry V., in the midst of his French wars, left the 
succession to his infant of nine months, and under the regency of rival noble- 
men during his minority the realm was torn and distracted, while all the 
French conquests were lost, except Calais. Henry VI., when he came to 
maturity, was weak to imbecility. This impotent and chaotic rule would 
naturally invite the assaults of ambitious men upon a dynasty itself of 
usurped authority, and the Duke of York, descended from an older son of 
Edward III. than was the Lancastrian Henry VI., aspired to the throne. 
The struggle between these two lines is " The Wars of the Roses."] 

You begin to hear the first sounds that give signal of the 
coming convulsion that is to shake the whole fabric of the 
realm ; you discover the premonitions of the political pesti- 
lence that is to devastate England. Popular tumult is the 
first eruption of the disease, and just such an insurrection as 
that which was headed by Jack Cade, is the form the tumult 
is apt to take. It is licentiousness proclaiming freedom by 
the destruction of all rule and order ; it is ruffian ignorance 
taking advantage of popular discontent by promising absurd 
and impracticable reformations. Wat Tyler's rebellion, some 
seventy years before, seems to me to have been a much more 
reputable insurrection than Cade's. Then the populace rose 
because the power of government was oppressive upon them, 
and now because they felt that the authority of law was too 
feeble to preserve subordination. The people were estranged 
from the sovereign ; they had, in their discontent, a restless 
desire for change — -they knew not what it should be ; and a 
low demagogue started them — to flatter them with promises. 
" There shall be in England seven half-penny loaves sold for 
a penny ; the three-hooped pots shall have ten hoops ; and I 
will make it a felony to drink small beer ; all the realm shall 
be in common, and in Cheapside shall my palfrey go to 
grass." 
Y 



146 Pictures from English History. 

Whether or no Cade's rebellion was fomented by the Duke 
of York, for the purpose of promoting his own aggrandizement 
out of the increased confusion, is one of the multitude of 
uncertainties of the history. York's claim to the crown is 
not made; but the troubles of the 'reign next take the form 
of the feud between York and the Lancastrian chief, the 
Duke of Somerset. It is a dispute between them that 
Shakespeare has made the subject of the scene in the Temple 
garden, in which the origin of the adoption of the respective 
badges of the two great parties is accounted for. The scene, 
however, is a purely dramatic creation, without historic 
authority, as far as is known ; and I am not aware that his- 
tory gives any explanation of the adoption of the white and 
red roses as the emblems of the Yorkists and Lancastrians 
respectively. In that scene, York, being unable to obtain an 
oral expression of opinion respecting his hereditary rights, is 
represented saying : 

*' Let him that is a trae-bom gentleman, 
And stands upon the honor of his birth, 
If he suppose that I have pleaded truth, 
From off this briar pluck a white rose with me." 

Somerset adds : 

" Let him that is no coward, nor no flatterer, 
But dare maintain the purity of the truth, 
Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me." 

The angry scene closes with Warwick's prediction: 

" This brawl to-day. 
Grown to this faction, in the Temple garden, 
Shall send, between the red rose and the white, 
A thousand souls to death and deadly night." 

Before the claim of the Duke of York to the throne was 
openly asserted, the thoughts of the nation were, during some 
years, habituated to look to him as the future sovereign in 
due course of inheritance, he being the heir presumptive, and 



The Wars of the Roses. 



147 



Henry VI. being then childless. The Duke of York becanne 
still more prominent in connection with royalty, by being 
made protector during the disability of the king. To the 
eyes of the nation, and to his own, the crown was visible as 
his future possession, until the birth of the Prince of Wales, 
the son of Henry VI., changed the prospect, and the throne 
could be reached by the family of York only by a revo- 
lutionary change. 

The battle of St. Albans, which is regarded as the begin- 
ning of the civil war, appears to have been an unpremeditated 
conflict. The Yorkists gained the battle, and the king fell 
into their power. The fact of the battle is quite intelligible ; 
but immediately after it, all that the triumphant Yorkists ask 
is pardon J they renew their oaths of fealty to King Henry, 
and appear perfectly satisfied, simply because Somerset was 
killed in the battle. Soon afterward the gentle king recon- 
ciled the contending parties, and a solemn procession to 
St. Paul's Cathedral took place, in which the leaders of the 
two parties made a beautiful show of concord by walking 
hand-in-hand with each other. It was a fine spectacle, but 
it was nothing more than a spectacle. The reconciliation 
endured but a little while, and then came another battle, the 
Yorkists again victorious; but to the great perplexity of the 
historical student, the victory is scarcely completed before 
the fortunes of the conquerors are suddenly depressed, one 
can hadly tell how or why; the Yorkist army disbands itself, 
and the leaders flee away to their strongholds. 

It was then that the fortunes of the faction were retrieved 
by perhaps the most remarkable personage in this war — 
Richard Neville, earl of Warwick, " The King-maker," as his 
successful prowess well entitled him to be styled. Warwick 
turned, rallied the disbanded army of the Yorkists, gained 
the battle of Northampton, drove the queen into exile, and 
brought his sovereign, helpless King Henry, captive to Lon- 
don, the victorious nobleman all the while paying the show 



Pictures from English History. 



of respectful homage to his prisoner-king. Professions of al- 
legiance were still studiously continued. It was a civil war, 
and not yet a war of succession. But now another change 
comes over the character of the contest, for while the Parlia- 
ment was in session for the purpose of harmonizing the dis- 
sensions, the Duke of York walked into Westminster Hall, 
and moving on to the throne, he placed his hand upon it, and 
stood silent in that attitude. Every voice was hushed. The 
Primate of England, after a short pause, inquired whether he 
would visit the king, and the answer was, " I know of no one 
in this realm who ought not rather visit me." These words, 
and the significant gesture, proclaimed for the first time, and 
in the presence of the assembled Parliament, that Richard 
Plantagenet laid claim to the throne of England. The claim 
was soon formally submitted to Parliament ; and then was pre- 
sented, for the first and the last time in English history, the 
extraordinary spectacle of a king reigning and a king claim- 
ing confronted, as it were, and maintaining their rights in the 
presence of the great council of the realm. When the subject 
was first stated to King Henry, he said, with a simplicity and 
earnestness that were impressive, "My father was king, his 
father was also king ; I have worn the crown forty years from 
my cradle; you have all sworn fealty to me as your sovereign, 
and your fathers have done the like to my fathers. How, 
then, can my right be disputed ? " The decision of the lords 
in Parliament was the timid and unsatisfactory result of com- 
promise — that process by which men, in their dread of en- 
countering either one of two dangers, bring both upon them- 
selves. Henry's possession of the crown was confirmed ; but 
on his death, to the exclusion of his son, the Duke of York 
and his heirs were to succeed. This wretched bargain was the 
occasion of another solemn procession of amity to St. Paul's. 
It is at this crisis of the war that we may best turn to the 
character of Queen Margaret; for upon her was the cause of 
the Lancastrian succession now dependent. From Shake- 



The Wars of the Roses. 149 

speare and the chroniclers we receive a very harsh impres- 
sion of the character of Margaret of Anjou, for they present 
her in repulsive, if not hideous, colors. She is portrayed un- 
feminine, arbitrary, revengeful, licentious ; and even her 
energy and fortitude are distorted into unnatural ferocity 
and obduracy. Margaret came to England a Frenchwoman, 
to be the queen of England, just at the time when English 
pride was exasperated by French victories ; and, moreover, 
she was soon placed in the unnatural attitude of supplying, 
by her character, the feebleness of her husband's rule. But 
one is still entitled to contemplate Queen Margaret, not as a 
vulgar and hideous Amazon, but as a woman under the dire 
necessity of mingling in scenes of war. After the parlia- 
mentary compromise, in which the succession of her son was 
sacrificed, we can behold her as an heroic matron warring for 
the rights of her child, when the father's feeble hand could 
not defend them. She gathers an army, which the Duke of 
York contemptuously encountering, pays a bloody penalty 
for the folly of rashly despising an enemy. He was slain at 
the battle of Wakefield ; and in as short a time as two months 
after he had walked in procession to St. Paul's, as the newly- 
declared heir-apparent, his gory head, insulted with a paper 
crown, was set upon the gates of York. 

After such a catastrophe, the reader of history naturally 
looks for the establishment of Lancastrian supremacv * l^ut 
no — the rights of the Duke of York, and the feudal inherit- 
ance of vengeance for his death, pass to his son, the Earl of 
March, a youth of nineteen years of age; and from this time 
the war becomes more ferocious than ever, and with a deeper 
thirst for revenge. The warlike queen pursues her success 
by the rescue of her husband from captivity; but the young 
Duke of York enters London, and is proclaimed King Ed- 
ward IV. There were now two kings in the land, Henry VI. 
and Edward IV. ; and the battle that soon followed between 
the two royal armies, shows, more impressively, perhaps, than 



150 Pictures from English History, 

any other in the war, to what fearful issues of carnage and 
bloodshed the passions of faction and civil war can drive 
men of the same kindred and the same homes. No for- 
eigner shared in the strife ; there were none but Englishmen 
present, and of them more than one hundred thousand were 
drawn up, in no very unequal divisions, in hostile array on 
the field of Towton. Both sovereigns were present, King 
Edward and King Henry, or, perhaps we had better say, 
Queen Margaret. Proclamation had been made that no 
quarter should be given; and faithfully and fiercely was the 
order obeyed, so that it proved probably the bloodiest battle 
in British history. The dreadful conflict lasted more than a 
day ; and some idea may be formed of the slaughter, when it 
is said the number of Englishmen slain exceeded the sum of 
those who fell at Vimeira, Talavera, Albuera, Salamanca, 
Vittoria — five great battles of the Peninsular War — and at 
Waterloo, combined. This enormous shedding of English 
blood was by English hands. The battle ended in the total 
rout of the Lancastrians, and the crown was firmly placed on 
the brow of Edward IV, 

So decided a victory, one would imagine, must have closed 
the contest ; but no — for ten perilous years was the struggle 
continued, chiefly by the indomitable energy of Queen Mar- 
garet. Poor King Henry took refuge in the secluded regions 
wf *^he north of England, but was betrayed and committed 
prisoner in the Tower of London; while his queen, eluding 
her enemies, is with difficulty followed in her rapid and un- 
wearied movements, at one time rallying her English parti- 
sans and risking battle, again seeking alliance and help 
from the King of France, Perils by land and perils by sea 
making up the wild story of her adventures, we hear of her 
at one time shipwrecked, and, at another, falling into the 
hands of a band of roving banditti. She struggled to the 
last — as long as she had a husband or a child whose rights 
were to be contended for. 



The Wars of the Roses. 151 

The later years of the war are no less perplexed than the 
beginning; and I do not know that, in the events that follow, 
there is to be discovered any thing especially characteristic 
of the age, or expressive of the spirit of the times, except the 
conduct of that great feudal lord, the Earl of Warwick. It 
was chiefly by him that Edward IV. had been helped to the 
throne ; and, when " The King-maker " found cause of quarrel 
with the monarch, he turlied his allegiance away, and the 
greatest of the Yorkist chieftains was afterward an adherent 
of the Lancastrians. King Edward became the prisoner of 
the proud nobleman, and one of the extraordinary spectacles 
which England exhibited in this war, was that of two rival 
kings, each confined in prison, and at the same time. " The 
King-maker " was strong enough to lift up the prostrate Lan- 
caster. Edward IV. fled from the palace and the kingdom ; 
and his imprisoned rival was led forth from the Tower to 
hear the streets of London resounding once more with the 
name of King Henry. This surprising restoration gave, 
however,* but a brief respite to the Lancastrian family before 
its final overthrow. The fugitive Edward returned to re- 
cover the crown, and, as it proved, to extinguish the oppos- 
ing dynasty. Henry Reed. 



152 



Pictures from English History. 



XXIII. 
"THE LAST OF THE BARONS." 

[Richard Neville, earl of Warwick, called by Hume " the Last of the 

Great Barons," and known in history as " The King-maker," upon the re- 
turn of Edward hastened to Queen Margaret and her son, Richard Plantag- 
enet, in France, and offered them his sword. He returned to England, 
raised a large force in her cause — ^his own vassals and retainers once num- 
bered 60,000 — and cast all on a single die in the battle of Barnet, April 
30, 1471. On one side, under Earl "Warwick, commanded the Marquis of 
Montagu, his brother. Earl of Oxford, Duke of Somerset, Duke of Exeter. 
On the other. King Edward was aided by his brother Richard, Duke of 
Gloucester, (afterward Richard III.,) Hastings, Lords D'Eyncourt, Say, 
and Duke Clarence, brother of the king and son-in-law of Earl Warwick 
— against whom he turned at the last moment. The battle was fought in 
a dense fog, and at first went in favor of Warwick. Oxford had routed the 
right wing of the royal army. In returning from the pursuit to position, 
the friendly emblem of Oxford, a silver Star, was mistaken by Warwick's 
forces for the silver Sun of the king's banner and friends foijght in the 
fog, and the day was turned.] 



It was now scarcely eight in the 
morning, though the battle had 
endured three hours ; and as yet 
victory so inclined to the earl 
that naught but some dire mis- 
chance could turn the scale. 
Montagu had cut his way to 
Warwick, Somerset had re-es- 
tablished his array. The fresh 
vigor brought by the earl's re- 
serve had well-nigh completed 
his advantage over Gloucester's 
The new infantry under Hilyard, the inexhausted 
under Sir John Coniers and his knightly corn- 
were dealing fearful havoc as they cleared the 




EDWARD IV. 



wmg. 

riders 
peer.s, 



"The Last of the Barons." 153 

plain ; and Gloucester, fighting inch by inch, no longer out- 
numbering, but outnumbered, was driven nearer and nearer 
toward the town, when suddenly a pale, sickly, and ghost- 
like ray of sunshine, rather resembling the watery gleam of 
a waning moon than the radiance of the Lord of Light, broke 
through the mists, and showed to the earl's eager troops the 
banner and badges of a new array hurrying to the spot. 
" Behold," cried the young Lord Fitzhugh, " the standard 
and the badge of the usurper — a silver Sun; Edward him- 
self is delivered into our hands ! Upon them — bill and pike, 
lance and brand, shaft and bolt ! Upon them, and crown 
the day ! " 

The same fatal error was shared by Hilyard as he caught 
sight of the advancing troop, with their silvery cognizance. 
He gave the word, and every arrow left its string. At the 
same moment, as both horse and foot assailed the fancied 
foe, the momentary beam vanished from the heaven, the two 
forces mingled in the sullen mists, when, after a brief con- 
flict, a sudden and horrible cry of " Treaso?t ! treason ! " re- 
sounded from either band. The shining Star of Oxford, 
retiring from the pursuit, had been mistaken for Edward's 
cognizance of the Sun. Friend was slaughtering friend, and 
when the error was detected, each believed the other had 
deserted to the foe. In vain, here Montagu and Warwick, 
and there Oxford and his captains, sought to dispel the con- 
fusion, and unite those whose blood had been fired against 
each other. 

While yet in doubt, confusion, and dismay, rushed full into 
the center Edward of York himself, with his knights and 
riders ; and his tossing banners, scarcely even yet distin- 
guished from Oxford's starry ensigns, added to the general 
incertitude and panic. Loud in the midst rose Edward's 
trumpet voice, while through the mist, like one crest of foam 
upon a roaring sea, danced his plume of snow. Hark ! 
again, again — near and nearer — the tramp of steeds, the clash 

(7* 



154 Pictures from English History, 

of steel, the whiz and hiss of arrows, the shout of " Hast- 
ings to the onslaught ! " Fresh, and panting for glory and 
for blood, came on King Edward's large reserve : from all 
the scattered parts of the field spurred the Yorkist knights, 
where the uproar, so much mightier than before, told them 
that the crisis of the war was come. Thither, as vultures to 
the carcass, they flocked and wheeled; thither D'Eyncourt, and 
Lovell and Cromwell's bloody sword, and Say's knotted mace ; 
and thither, again rallying his late half-beaten myrmidons, 
the grim Gloucester, his helmet bruised and dinted, but the 
boar's teeth still gnashing wrath and horror from the grisly 
crest. But direst and most hateful of all in the eyes of the 
yet undaunted earl, thither, plainly visible, riding scarce a 
yard before him, with the cognizance of Clare wrought on 
his gay mantle, and in all the pomp and bravery of a holiday 
suit, came the perjured Clarence. Conflict now it could 
scarce be called. As well might the Dane have rolled back 
the sea from his footstool as Warwick and his disordered 
troop (often and aye dazzled here by Oxford's Star, there by 
Edward's Sun, dealing random blows against each other) 
have resisted the general whirl and torrent of the surround- 
ing foe. To add to the rout, Somerset and the on-guard of 
his wing had been marching toward the earl at the very time 
that the cry of " treason " had struck their ears, and Ed- 
Avard's charge was made. These men, nearly all Lancas- 
trians, and ever doubting Montagu, if not Warwick, with the 
example of Clarence and the Archbishop of York fresh be- 
fore them, lost heart at once— Somerset himself headed the 
flight of his force. 

" All is lost ! " said Montagu, as, side by side with War- 
wick, the brothers fronted the foe, and for one moment 
stayed the rush. 

" Not yet," returned the earl. " A band of my northern 
archers still guard yon wood — I know them — they will fight 
to the last gasp ! Thither, then, with what men we may. 



"The Last of the Barons." 155 

You so marshal our soldiers, and I will make good the re- 
treat. Bold Nephew Fitzhugh, and ye brave riders round 
me — so, we are fifty knights ! Haste thou, Montagu, to the 
wood ! the wood ! " 

So noble in that hero age was the Individual MAN, even 
amid the multitude massed by war, that history vies with ro- 
mance in showing how far the sword of the single, or the 
few, could redress the scale of war. While Montagu, with 
rapid dexterity, and a voice yet promising victory, drew back 
the remnant of the lines, and in serried order retreated to 
the outskirts of the wood, Warwick and his band of knights 
protected the movement from the countless horsemen who 
darted forth from Edward's swarming and momently thick- 
ening ranks. Now dividing and charging singly— now re- 
joining — and breast to breast, they served to divert, and per- 
plex, and harass the eager enemy. And never, in all his 
wars, in all the former might of his indomitable arm, had 
Warwick so excelled, as in that eventful and crov/ning hour, 
the martial chivalry of his age. Thrice, almost alone, he 
penetrated into the very center of Edward's body-guard, 
literally felling to the earth all before him. Then perished 
by his battle-ax Lord Cromwell and the redoubted Lord of 
Say — then, no longer sparing even the old affection, Glou- 
cester was hurled to the ground. The last time he pene- 
trated even to Edward himself, smiting down the king's 
standard-bearer, unhorsing Hastings, who threw himself in 
his path ; and Edward, setting his teeth in stern joy as he 
saw him, rose in his stirrups, and for a moment the mace of 
the king, the ax of the earl, met as thunder encounters 
thunder ; but then a hundred knights rushed in to the res- 
cue, and robbed the baffled avenger of his prey. Thus 
charging and retreating, driving back, with each charge, far 
and farther the mighty multitude hounding on to the lion's 
death, this great chief and his devoted knights, though ter- 
ribly reduced in number, succeeded at last in covering 



156 Pictures from English History. 

Montagu's skillful retreat ; and when they gained the outskirts 
of the woodj and dashed through the narrow opening between 
the barricades, the Yorkshire archers approved their lord's 
trust, and, shouting as to a marriage feast, hailed his 
coming. 

But few, alas ! of his fellow-horsemen had survived that 
marvelous enterprise of valor and despair. Of the fifty 
knights who had shared its perils eleven only gained the 
wood ; and though, in this number, the most eminent (save 
Sir John Coniers, either slain or fled) might be found, their 
horses, more exposed than themselves, were for the most 
part wounded and unfit for further service. At this time 
the sun again, and suddenly as before, broke forth — not now 
with a feeble glimmer, but a broad and almost a cheerful 
beam, which sufficed to give a fuller view than the day had 
yet afforded of the state and prospects of the field. 

To the right and to the left, what remained of the cavalry 
of Warwick were seen flying fast — gone the lances of Oxford, 
the bills of Somerset. Exeter, pierced by the shaft of Al- 
wyn, was lying cold and insensible, remote from the contest, 
and deserted even by his squires. 

In front of the archers, and such men as Montagu had 
saved from the sword, halted the immense and murmuring 
multitude of Edward, their thousand banners glittering in 
the sudden sun ; for as Edward beheld the last wrecks of 
his foe stationed near the covert his desire of consummating 
victory and revenge made him cautious, and, fearing an 
ambush, he had abruptly halted. 

When the scanty followers of the earl thus beheld the im- 
mense force arrayed for their destruction, and saw the extent 
of their danger and their loss — here the handful, there the 
multitude — a simultaneous exclamation of terror and dismay 
broke from their ranks. 

" Children ! " cried Warwick, " droop not ! Henry, at 
Agincourt, had worse odds than we ! " 



"The Last of the Barons." 157 

While thus the scene on the eminence of Hadley, Edward, 
surrounded by Hastings, Gloucester, and his principal cap- 
tains, took advantage of the unexpected sunshine to scan the 
foe and its position, with the eye of his intuitive genius for 
all that can slaughter man. " This day," he said, " brings 
no victory, assures no crown, if Warwick escape alive. To 
you, Lovell and Ratcliffe, I intrust two hundred knights; 
your sole care — the head of the rebel earl ! " 

And a few minutes afterward Warwick and his men saw 
two parties of horse leave the main body — one for the right 
hand, one the left — followed by long detachments of pikes, 
which they protected ; and then the central array marched 
slowly and steadily on toward the scanty foe. The design 
was obvious — to surround on all sides the enemy, driven to 
its last desperate bay. But Montagu and his brother had 
not been idle in the breathing pause ; they had planted the 
greater portion of the archers skillfully among the trees. 
They had placed their pikemen on the verge of the barri- 
cades, made by sharp stakes and fallen timber ; and where 
their rampart was unguarded by the pass which had been 
left free for the horsemen, Hilyard and his stoutest fellows 
took their post, filling the gap with breasts of iron. 

And now as, with horns and clarions, with a sea of plumes, 
and spears, and pennons, the multitudinous deathsmen came 
on, Warwick, towering in the front, not one feather on his 
eagle crest despoiled or shorn, stood, dismounted, his visor 
still raised, by his renowned steed. Some of the men had, 
by Warwick's order, removed the mail from the destrier's 
breast, and the noble animal, relieved from the weight, 
seemed as unexhausted as its rider ; save where the champed 
foam had bespecked his glossy hide, not a hair was turned, 
and the on-guard of the Yorkists heard his fiery snort as they 
moved slowly on. This figure of horse and horseman stood 
prominently forth amid the little band. He kissed the des- 
trier on his frontal, and Saladin, as if conscious of the coming 



158 Pictures from English History. 

blow, bent his proud crest humbly, and licked his lord's 
steel-clad hand. So associated together had been horse and 
horseman, that, had it been a human sacrifice, the by-standers 
could not have been more moved. And when, covering the 
charger's eyes with one hand, the earl's dagger descended, 
bright and rapid, a groan went through the ranks. But the 
effect was unspeakable ! The men knew at once that to 
them, and them alone, their lord trusted his fortunes and his 
life, they were nerved to more than mortal daring. No es- 
cape for Warwick ; why, then, in Warwick's person they 
lived and died ! Upon foe as upon friend, the sacrifice pro- 
duced all that could tend to strengthen the last refuge of 
despair. Even Edward, where he rode in the van, beheld 
and knew the meaning of the deed. Victorious Teuton 
rushed back upon his memory with a thrill of strange terror 
and remorse. 

" He will die as he has lived," said Gloucester, with ad- 
miration. " If I live for such a field, God grant me such a 
death." 

As the words left the duke's lips, and Warwick, one foot 
on his dumb friend's corpse, gave the mandate, a murderous 
discharge from the archers in the covert rattled against the 
line of the Yorkists, and the foe, still advancing, stepped 
over a hundred corpses to the conflict. Despite the vast 
preponderance of numbers, the skill of Warwick's archers, 
the strength of his position, the obstacle to the cavalry made 
by the barricades, rendered the attack perilous in the ex- 
treme. But the orders of Edward were prompt and vigor- 
ous. He cared not for the waste of life, and, as one rank 
fell, another rushed on. High before the barricades stood 
Montagu, Warwick, and the rest of that indomitable chiv- 
alry, the flower of the ancient Norman heroism. As idly 
beat the waves upon a rock as the ranks of Edward upon 
that serried front of steel. The sun still shone in heaven, 
and still Edward's conquest was unassured. Nay, if Mar- 



"The Last of the Barons." 159 

maduke could yet bring back, upon the rear of the foe, the 
troops of Somerset, Montagu and the earl felt that the vic- 
tory might be for them. And often the earl paused to 
hearken for the cry of " Somerset " on the gale, and often 
Montagu raised his visor to look for the banners and spears 
of the Lancastrian duke. And ever, as the earl listened and 
Montagu scanned the field, larger and larger seemed to 
spread the armament of Edward. While here the conflict 
became fierce and doubtful, the right wing, led by D'Eyn- 
court, had pierced the wood, and, surprised to discover no 
ambush, fell upon the archers in the rear. The scene was 
now inexpressibly terrific ; cries and groans, and the ineffable 
roar and yell of human passion, resounded demon-like 
through the shade of the leafless trees. And at this moment 
the provident and rapid generalship of Edward had moved 
up one of his heavy bombards. Warwick and Montagu, and 
most of the knights, were called from the barricades to aid 
the archers thus assailed behind but an instant before that 
defense was shattered into air by the explosion of the bom- 
bard. In another minute horse and foot rushed through the 
opening. And amid all the din was heard the voice of Ed- 
ward, " Strike ! and spare not ; we win the day ! " " We 
win the day ! victory ! victory ! " repeated the troops behind. 
At that time this space was rough forest ground, and 
where now, in the hedge, rise two small trees, types of the 
diminutive offspring of our niggard and ignoble civilization, 
rose then two huge oaks, coeval with the warriors of the 
Norman Conquest. They grew close together, yet, though 
their roots interlaced — though their branches mingled — one 
had not taken nourishment from the other. They stood, 
equal in height and grandeur, the twin giants of the wood. 
Before these trees, whose ample trunks protected them from 
the falchions in the rear, Warwick and Montagu took their 
last post. In front rose, literally, mounds of the slain, 
whether of foe or friend ; for round them to the last had 



i6o Pictures from En^slish History. 

gathered the brunt of war, and they towered now, almost 
solitary in valor's sublime despair, amid the wrecks of battle 
and against the irresistible march of Fate. As side by side 
they had gained this spot, and the vulgar assailants drew 
back, leaving the bodies of the dead their last defense from 
death, they turned their visors to each other, as for one latest 
farewell on earth. 

For a moment their hands clasped, and then all was grim 
silence. Wide and far, behind and before, in the gleam of 
the sun stretched the victorious armament, and that breath- 
ing pause sufficed to show the grandeur of their resistance 
— the grandest of all spectacles, even in its hopeless extrem- 
ity — the defiance of brave hearts to the brute force of the 
many. Where they stood they were visible to thousands, but 
not a man stirred against them. The memory of Warwick's 
past achievements — the consciousness of his feats that day — 
all the splendor of his fortunes and his name, made the mean 
fear to strike and the brave ashamed to murder. The gal- 
lant D'Eyncourt sprang from his steed and advanced to the 
spot. His followers did the same. 

" Yield, my lords — yield ! Ye have done all that men 
could do." 

" We yield not. Sir Knight," answered the marquis in a 
calm tone. 

Seven points might the shadow have traversed on the dial, 
and before Warwick's ax and Montagu's sword seven souls 
had gone to judgment. In that brief crisis, amid the general 
torpor and stupefaction and awe of the by-standers, round 
one little spot centered still a war. 

But numbers rushed on numbers, as the fury of the con- 
flict urged on the lukewarm. Montagu was beaten to his 
knee — Warwick covered him with his body — a hundred axes 
resounded on the earl's stooping casque — a hundred blades 
gleamed round the joints of his harness : a simultaneous 
cry was heard : over the mounds of the slain, through the 



"The Last of the Barons." i6i 

press into the shadow of the oaks, dashed Gloucester's 
charger. The conflict had ceased — the executioners stood 
mute in a half circle. Side by side, ax and sword still griped 
in their iron hands, lay Montagu and Warwick. 

The young duke, his visor raised, contemplated the fallen 
foes in silence. Then dismounting, he unbraced with his 
own hand the earl's helmet. " So," muttered the dark and 
musing prince, unconscious of the throng : " so perishes the 
Race of Iron ! Low lies the last Baron who could control 
the throne and command the people. The Age of Force 
expires with knighthood and deeds of arms. And over this 
dead great man I see the New Cycle dawn." 

Edward Bulwer, Lord Lytton. 



l62 



Pictures from English History. 



XXIV. 

BOSWORTH-FIELD. 

[With the death of Warwick, of Henry VI. who was murdered in the 
Tower, the imprisonment of Margaret, and the death of her son and lieir, 
tlie domestic dissensions of Edward IV. 's reign ended. Upon his death, 
his brother Richard, duke of Gloucester, usurped tlie crown, having 
in some way disposed of the two young princes, cliildren of Edward, and 
rightful successors. His triumph was short ; for Henry, earl of Richmond, 
a lineal descendant of Edward III., invaded England, and in 1485, upon 
Bosworth-Field, overthrew the usurper, and with him the lines of both York 
and Lancaster, and was crowned Henry VII., being the first of the Tudors.] 

Richard had ridden out of 
Leicester in the same state and 
splendor in which he had entered 
it, wearing his crown on the hel- 
met of a rich suit of steel armor 
that he had first worn at Tewkes- 
bury; and passing on to Mirwall 
Abbey, encamped upon a hill 
called Anbeam, overlooking a 
broad extent of open ground, 
called Redmoor, not far from 
the town of Market-Bosworth. 
Richard was to the west, Henry to the east. Restless and 
distrustful, Richard rose at midnight, wandered alone through 
his outposts, found a sentinel slumbering, and stabbed him to 
the heart as he lay, then returned to endeavor to recruit 
himself by sleep for the next day ; but he was awake again, 
long before the chaplains were ready to say mass, or the at- 
tendants to bring breakfast ; and he told his servants of the 
sentry's fate, grimly saying, " I found him asleep, and have 
left him as I found him." No thought of mercy was in the 
mind of the man bold in civil war, whose early recollections 
were of Wakefield and Towton, and whose maiden sword 




RICHARD III. 




« « ic §3 8 s *^ J =^^1 

^ TO *i 5 r* ,-*j '^^ a ,^ § 
■3 S 2 o ° 0) j3 S S 5^-^ a 

■w^ ® *^ ? g*^ ^^ 

iS iflp O m S S.a'5 Ci^ 



BoSWORTH-FlELD. 163 



had been fleshed at Barnet. He onlj said that, go the battle 
as it might, England would suffer ; " from Lancaster to 
Shrewsbury he would leave none alive, knight or squire ; 
and from Holyhead to St. David's, where were castles and 
towers should all be parks and fields. All should repent 
that ever they rose against their king; and if Richmond 
triumphed, the Lancastrians would, of course, take a bloody 
vengeance." 

Anxious tidings kept on coming in. The Duke of Nor- 
folk brought in a paper he had found pinned to his tent, in 
the morning, bearing the lines : 

"Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold, 

For Dickon, thy master, is bought and sold ; " 

and when, thus rendered even more anxious, Richard sent 
to command the personal attendance of Lord Stanley and 
his brother William, they flatly refused to come. Thereupon 
he gave instant orders to strike off young Stanley's head ; 
but the opposite army already showed signs of movement, 
and the execution was deferred. 

Richard then arrayed his men. His army seems to have 
numbered about 16,000, and he decided on extending the 
vanguard to the utmost, so as if possible to outflank and en- 
wrap the enemy. In their center he placed a dense body of 
archers, and among them sevenscore guns called sargents, 
chained and locked in a row, behind a trench, with the men 
who knew how to use harquebuses and morris-pikes also 
stationed around them, all guarded by a trench. This was 
under the command of Norfolk; the second line under that 
of Northumberland ; and Richard himself took charge of a 
body of troops formed into a dense square, with wings of 
horsemen. Henry, meantime, was almost as uneasy about 
the Stanleys as Richard himself, for neither did they obey 
his summons ; and without their 8,000, his force was no 
more than 5,000. He formed this little troop into three 



164 Pictures from English History. 

lines, spreading them as far as possible, giving the center to 
the experienced Earl of Oxford, the right wing to Sir Gilbert 
Talbot, the left to Sir John Savage. He rode through the 
army, giving them comfortable words — entirely armed, all 
save his helmet ; and the long golden hair, that witnessed to 
his Plantagenet ancestry, flowing down to his shoulders. 
The soldiers closed their helmets and shook their bills ; the 
archers strung their bows and " frushed " their arrows. Each 
side stood ready for the last of the hundred battles of the 
Plantagenets. 

Richmond moved first, so as to bring the right flank of 
his army alongside of the swamp, and prevent Richard's 
long line from closing upon that side, and besides so as to 
bring the August sun on the backs instead of the faces of his 
men. They seem to have waited for a charge from the ene- 
my; but as none was made, Oxford resolved to make a sud- 
den and furious dash at the center, where Norfolk was in 
command. The fighting was hot and vehement, and the 
small band of the Lancastrians must have been beaten off 
but that the Earl of Northumberland, in the second line, 
never stirred to the aid of Norfolk. The duke went down, 
his son, the Earl of Surrey, surrendered ; and the Mowbray 
banner was down. 

Richard, maddened at the sight, and seeing half his army 
standing inactive, determined to make a desperate charge 
down the hill upon Henry himself; but fevered with the 
thirst of agitation of this desperate crisis, he flung himself 
down, and took a long draught from a spring that still goes 
by the name of Dick's Well. Then he put his lance in the 
rest, and together with his most attached adherents — Lovell, 
Catesby, Ratcliffe, Brackenbury, Lord Ferrers, and Sir Ger- 
voise Clifton, and their nearest followers, putting their lances 
in rest, rode headlong upon Richmond, as indeed the last 
hope now lay in the destruction of the individual rival. 
Small and slender as Richard was, he did wonders : he 



BOSWORTH-FIELD. 165 



drove his lance through the armpit of Sir William Brandon, 
the standard-bearer ; and as Sir John Cheyney, a man of 
gigantic frame, threw himself in front of Henry, he unhorsed 
him at the first shock. But others had closed in between the 
two rivals ; and at that moment a knight — Catesby, as it is 
said — pointed out to the king that Sir William Stanley, 
hitherto inactive, was moving with his 3,000 men to crush 
him completely, and tendering to him a swift and fresh 
horse, advised him to save himself by flight, saying, " I hold 
it time for ye to fly. Yonder Stanley, his dints be so sore, 
against them no man may stand. Here is thy horse ; another 
day ye may worship again." "Never!" cried Richard, 
" Not one foot will I fly so long as breath bides within my 
breast. Here will I end all my battles or my life. I will die 
King of England." 

Down came cautious Stanley, and the fray thickened. 
The charge had been but just in time to save Henry, but 
when it came it was overpowering. " Treason ! treason ! 
treason! " cried Richard at every blow; but his followers fell 
around him, his standard-bearer clinging to his standard and 
waving it even till his legs were cut from under him, and 
then he still grasped and waved it till his last gasp. 

Richard, after fighting like a lion, and hewing down what- 
ever came within the sweep of his sword, was falling under 
the weight of numbers, and loud shouts proclaimed his fall. 
His party turned and fled, and were pursued closely for 
about fifty minutes, during which toward a thousand men 
were slain, and tradition declares that the mounds along the 
track are their graves. At last a steep rising ground, after 
about two miles, slackened the pursuit, for Henry had no 
desire to fulfill Richard's bloody prophecy. His uncle, 
Jasper, earl of Pembroke, and Aubrey de Vere, earl of Ox- 
ford, victorious at last after their many piteous defeats, and 
Lord Stanley, halted with him ; and Sir Reginald Bray came 
up with the crown that Richard had so proudly worn, and 



i66 Pictures from English History. 



which he had found hanging on a hawthorn bush, dinted and 
battered ; but such as it was the Lord Stanley set it on 
Henry's head, and shouts of " God save King Harry! " rang 
throughout the field. Crown Hill became the name of the 
eminence, and Henry adopted as his badge the crown in the 
may-bush. He knelt down and returned thanks for his 
victory. Miss Yonge. 



XXV. 

" KING RICHARD IV." 

[Though the reign of Henry VII. was free from important wars, he was 
harassed by a succession of strange pretenders to the crown. One of 
• these was Lambert Simnel, a baker's son, who pretended to be Edward, 
earl of Warwick, son of Clarence, brother of Henry IV. and Richard III., 
He got many followers, though the real Warwick was alive in London, but 
was soon captured and made a scullion in the king's kitchen. Next arose 
a young man who claimed to be Richard of York, one of the infant sons 
whom Richard, duke of Gloucester, had imprisoned in the Tower when 
he usurped the throne. The writers of the Tudor dynasty represent him 
to have been Perkin Warbeck, a Flemish trader's son, a putative illegiti- 
mate child of Henry IV.] 

The long and curious romance of Perkin Warbeck had be- 
gun. It looked as if the exploded pretense of Lambert 
Simnel had been got up to throw ridicule on any future 
claim ; but if so it was of no avail, for all that the baker's 
son had begun in the year i486 was carried through, with a 
princely dignity and consistency of behavior, which won 
many to his cause, by the son of a merchant of Tournay, of 
the name of Warbeck. First he arrived, as his predecessor 
had done, on the shores of Ireland ; but he was not con- 
tented with being the helpless Warwick, the nephew of Ed- 
ward IV., but was Richard of York, who had managed to 
escape from the Tower when his elder brother, Edward V., 
was murdered by Forest and Dighton. He was not yet 








T', 



HI— ' 











1' 11 



^ - 



'i. 






Chapef and Tomb of Henry VI 



"King Richard IV." 167 

twenty years of age, was very beautiful and fascinating in 
his manners, and tiirew himself entirely on the gallantry of 
the Irish nation. The chieftains, from hatred to Henry, and 
the people from their natural generosity and kindness, gave in 
their adhesion at once ; but, before he could avail himself 
of their support, he received an invitation from the French 
king, who wished to have a standing menace to his rival in 
his hands, and was accepted by all the lords and ladies of 
Paris as the true heir of England, and treated with royal 
honors. 

Charles found the maintenance of a royal claimant a con- 
siderable expense, and the disappointed adventurer made his 
way to the Duchess of Burgundy. That princess, who was 
sister, be it remembered, of Edward IV., and hated Henry 
with all her heart, was apparently doubtful at first ; but on 
some secret communication, and yielding to the voice of 
nature, she at last recognized her nephew, and again the per- 
severing Perkin was recognized as the English king. The 
duchess would, probably, have been equally happy to recog- 
nize him in any other character that might have been equally 
injurious to the detested Richmond. But the force of her 
example was great. Many of the English residents in Flan- 
ders acknowledged his claim ; the old Yorkist party at home 
sent over an emissary, who reported that he was the right 
and lawful prince ; and Margaret received him at court at- 
tended by his body-guard of faithful subjects, and presented 
him as her beloved nephew, the White Rose of England. 

But Henry had emissaries, too. They brought back re- 
ports of the young man's birth and education which alto- 
gether overthrew his claims. He was traced in his travels to 
many lands in the character of servant or dependent of one 
of the families whom Henry, on his accession, had banished. 
His parents were named, and certificates of their conversion 
from Judaism produced ; but nothing was of any use in de- 
stroying the pretender's story. Henry was in the unfortu- 



1 68 Pictures from English History. 

nate position of having told so many lies that no one woulc^ 
believe him, particularly when he stumbled on a truth. 
Spies were employed, and the vengeance of the law let loose ; 
many nobles and others were arrested, and three of the 
busiest adherents of Prince Richard were put to death. 

Despair drove the exasperated party to action. Perkin 
himself landed with a few followers near Deal ; but, meeting 
with little aid from the men of Kent, retired, leaving a hun- 
dred and sixty prisoners in the hands of the king. They 
were too poor for ransom, and too numerous to be set free ; 
so he hanged them on posts set up at intervals all round the 
coast, to serve as sea-marks for any more Flemings who 
might wish to come over. But he tried a surer policy than 
hanging and quartering next. He made a commercial 
treaty with Philip of Burgundy, by a clause of which he was 
bound to force the duchess-dowager to send Perkin out of 
her lands : and the wanderer had no place to go, for his 
reception was an insult to England. He went once more to 
Ireland, and could raise no friends. He went to Scotland, 
and would have been treated with the same neglect if Henry, 
by wrongs and insults to the king and nation, had not raised 
up a feeling against him which found its gratification in be- 
lieving that he was an illegitimate usurper, and that Perkin 
was the true heir. James IV., the gallant and unfortunate 
Scottish king, was aware of the plots and treacheries of his 
powerful neighbor. He knew that persons had even been 
hired to carry him off a prisoner ; and if darker suspicions 
lurked in his mind, they may be forgiven to a brave spirit 
like his, which looked with equal disdain on perfidious capt- 
ure and secret assassination. When Perkin came, therefore, 
he was received as an instrument of revenge, if not as a 
victim to the same mean conspirator as himself. The noble 
manners of the young man completed the interest which his 
romantic story excited, and in a short time he was married 
to the Lady Catherine Gordon, a daughter of the Earl of 



" King Richard IV." 169 

Huntley, and cousin of the king. An expedition into En- 
gland failed because the zeal of the northern families in 
favor of the pretender was exceeded by their hatred of his 
Scotch auxiliaries, of whom James himself was in command. 
Perkin begged his allies to recross the border, and was pro- 
foundly moved with the sufferings their lawlessness had in- 
flicted on his people. Henry, as he had bought off the 
Duchess of Burgundy with a treaty for the admission of 
Flemish cloth, now bought off James with the hand of his 
daughter Margaret Tudor. Too young still to be more than 
the affianced bride, Margaret formed the link that in course 
of time bound the two kingdoms in one ; for you will find 
that her great-grandson came to the English throne in the 
person of James I., and put an end to the rivalries and 
hostility which robbed each of the nations of half its 
strength. 

A rebellion of the men of Cornwall encouraged Perkin, 
who had to leave the court of the proposed son-in-law of his 
enemy, to try his fortune in the west of England. Landing 
at Whitsand Bay, he advanced into Devonshire, gathering 
friends and followers on his way. He was repulsed at Ex- 
eter, which he had tried to take by storm, and finally found 
himself confronted by the king's array at Taunton. There 
was no chance for the ragged array that Cornwall had sent 
forth. They had no arms and were scantily clothed, and of- 
fered an easy prey to the well-led troops which Henry 
pushed against them, reserving his favorite station in the 
rear. Perkin, prince or impostor, had military skill enough 
to see the impossibility of success, but not chivalry enough 
to throw his life away on so desperate a cast. He rode off at 
night, and never drew bit till he was in the sanctuary of 
Beaulieu, in the New Forest ; and there he heard, in a short 
time, that Henry had sent off in hot haste to seize his wife, 
the Lady Catherine, at St. Michael's Mount, where he had 
left her ; and that, moved by her tears and beauty, or, more 



170 Pictures from English History. 

likely, to keep her constantly in guard, he had sent her to 
the queen, who received her with the greatest favor. 

The absurd secrecy in which Henry thought it policy to 
involve all his acts made people believe there was some 
foundation for Perkin's claim ; for though he was frequently 
examined, very little was communicated to the public. He 
was allowed, in the meantime, to reside in the precinct of 
the court, and was even treated with a show of respect. 
From this free custody he escaped, and, on being retaken, 
was forced to read a confession of his imposture, and then 
was committed to the Tower, where by a strange or designed 
coincidence, the real Earl of Warwick was confined. The 
prisoners, for what reason we are left to guess, were allowed 
to meet. Perkin gained the prince's affection by the win- 
ning speil of his manners and appearance, and so softened 
the keepers appointed to guard him, that they offered to aid 
his escape. On this, and some other evidence of a design 
between the two to regain their liberty together, Perkin was 
at last tried, and of course condemned. He was executed 
at Tyburn, having read again a confession of his imposture, 
and men were divided in their opinions more from the con- 
tradictory nature of some of the proofs Henry brought to 
substantiate his statement than from the likelihood of the 
young man's tale. We have tried to give the facts as they 
occurred, and it must always remain as one of the mysterious 
incidents by which every now and then the prosaic monotony 
of history is relieved. 

James White. 



"The Field of the Cloth of Gold." 171 

XXVI. 

" THE FIELD OF THE CLOTH OF GOLD." 

[The policy of Henry VIII., like that of his father, was to secure foreign 
ends by diplomacy and bribery rather than by v/ar. In 1520 Henry visited 
Francis I., king of France, on a diplomatic mission, and the two kings 
contended with each other in prodigality and courtliness instead of in arms 
and daring. So gorgeous was the three days' pageant that the field where 
they met became known as " The Field of the Cloth of Gold."] 

Hundreds of skillful workmen were emploj'ed in erecting 
the pavilions that were to lodge the two courts ; barons and 
gentlemen flocked in from all parts — many of whom, it was 
said, had spent a whole year's income in fitting themselves 
for the display ; and councilors and heralds rode backward 
and forward incessantly, arranging the precautions and the 
etiquettes of the meeting. The two kings might, so ruled 
the statesmen, meet in open field ; but neither might trust 
himself in the camp of the other, unless on principles of ex- 
change. They might mutually visit the queens, but neither 
might be at home when his brother king visited him. Each 
must be a hostage for the other. 

Frangois' chief tent before Ardres was a magnificent 
dome, sustained by one mighty mast, and covered without 
with cloth of gold lined with blue velvet, with all the orbs of 
heaven worked on it in gold, and on the top, outside, a hol- 
low golden figure of St. Michael. The cords were of blue 
silk twisted with gold of Cyprus ; but the chronicler of the 
French display is obliged to confess that the King of En- 
gland's lodgings were trop plus belle, (far more beautiful.) 
They were certainly more solid, for eleven hundred work- 
men, mostly from Holland and Flanders, had been employed 
on them for weeks, chiefly about the hangings, for the frame- 
work was of English timber, and made at home. Bacchus 
presided over a fountain of wine in the court, with several 



172 Pictures from English History. 



subordinate fountains of red, white, and claret wines, and 
the motto, '"'' Faites bonne chere qui vouldra,''' (Let who will make 
good cheer,) a politer one than that which labeled the savage 
man with a bow and arrows who stood before the door, 
" Cut ad/icet-eo prceest,'' (He prevails to whom I adhere.) The 
outside of the castle was canvas painted to resemble stone- 
work, the inside hung with the richest arras, and all divided 
into halls, chambers, and galleries, like any palace at home, 
with a chapel of the utmost splendor. It had the great ad- 
vantage of superior stability, for a high wind leveled Fran- 
cois' blue dome with the dust, and forced him to take shel- 
ter in the old castle of Ardres. 

On the first day Wolsey had a conference with Franfois, 
Duprat with Henry, the upshot of which was that their chil- 
dren should be married. One hundred thousand crowns a 
year were to be paid to Henry, nominally with a view to this 
hypothetical marriage, but really to secure his neutrality ; 
and the affairs of Scotland were to be settled by the arbitra- 
tion of Louise of Savoy and Cardinal Wolsey. 

This settled, each king got on horseback, himself and 
steed both wearing as much cloth of gold and silver as could 
possibly be put on them, and met in the valley of Ardres. 
They saluted and embraced on horseback, and then dis- 
mounting at the same moment, walked arm-in-arm into the 
tent prepared for them, where a splendid feast was spread, 
with two trees in the midst, the English hawthorn and French 
raspberry lovingly entwined. Lists had been prepared and 
invitations to a tournament issued long before ; and on the 
nth of June Queen Katharine and Queen Claude' sat side 
by side, with their feet on a foot-cloth broidered with seed- 
pearls, to admire the jousting, in which both their husbands 
took a part. Armor had come to such a state of cumbrous 
perfection by this time that it was not very easy to be killed 
in a real battle, (barring fire-arms,) and tilting matches were 
very safe amusements Six days were given to tilting with 



"The Field of the Cloth of Gold." 173 

the lance, two to fights with the broad-sword on horseback, 
two to fighting on foot at the barriers. On the last day- 
there was some wrestling at the barriers, and Henry, who 
was fond of the sport and never had tried it with an equal, 
put his hand on his good brother's collar and challenged him 
to try a fall. Both were in the prime of life, stately, well- 
made men ; but Francois was the younger, lighter, and more 
agile, and Henry, to his amazement, found himself on his 
back. He rose and demanded another turn ; but the 
noblemen interfered, thinking it a game that might leave 
animosities. 

Francois was heartily weary of the formalities of their 
intercourse, and early one morning called a page and two 
gentlemen, mounted his horse, and rode up to the English 
canvas castle, where he found Henry still in bed, and mer- 
rily oft'ered himself to him as captive, to which Henry re- 
sponded in the same tone by leaping up and throwing a rich 
collar round his neck by way of chain. Francois then un- 
dertook to help him to dress, warming his shirt, spreading 
out his hose, and trussing his points — namely, tying the. innu- 
merable little strings that connected the doublet with the 
hose or breeches, rendering it nearly impossible to dress 
without assistance. After having had his frolic Francois rode 
home again, meeting a lecture on the way from the Sieur de 
Fleuranges, who took him to task thus : " Sire, I am glad to 
see you back ; but allow me to tell you, my master, that you 
were a fool for what you have done, and ill-luck betide those 
who advised you to it." 

" That was no one — the thought was my own," replied the 
king. 

And the king was altogether the more reasonable, for En- 
glishmen had never been in the habit of murdering or im- 
prisoning their guests, and never in his life did Henry VHI. 
show a taste for assassination. Yet when he beheld the arro- 
gant manners and extraordinary display of the Constable of 



174 Pictures from English History. 

France, Charles de Bourbon, he could not help observing, 
mindful of what Warwick had been, " If I had such a sub- 
ject as that, his head should not stay long on his shoulders." 

The next day, which was the last of this gorgeous fortnight 
— Mid-summer Day — King Henry appareled himself like 
Hercules. That is to say, he had a shirt of silver damask 
with the discourteous motto, '"'' En femmes et infauntes cy petit 
assurance,'' (Little trust can be in women and children ;) on 
his head a garland of green damask cut into vine and haw- 
thorn leaves ; in his hand a club covered with " green damask 
full of pricks ; " the Nemean lion's skull was of cloth of 
gold, " wrought and frizzed with flat gold of damask " for the 
mane, and buskins of gold. His sister Mary, in white and 
crimson satin, accompanied him ; also the nine worthies, 
nineteen ladies, and a good many more, mounted on horses 
trapped with yellow and white velvet. Thus they set out to 
visit Queen Claude at Guisnes, meeting half-way a fantastic 
chariot, containing King Frangois and all his masquers on 
their way to make a like call upon Queen Katharine. The 
two parties took no notice of each other, but passed on ; but 
when returning after supper they met again, the kings era- 
braced, exchanged presents, and bade farewell, when verily 
the scene must have been stranger than any other ever 
enacted under the open sky — a true mid-summer night's 
dream. 

" During this triumph," observed Hall, who was never more 
in his element, " so much people of Picardy and west Flan- 
ders drew to Guisnes to see the King of England and his 
honor, to whom victuals of the court were in plenty ; the 
conduit of the gate ran wine always — there were vagabonds, 
plowmen, laborers, wagoners, and beggars, that for drunken- 
ness lay in routs and heaps. So great resort thither came, 
that both knights and ladies that were come to see the no- 
bleness were fain to lie in hay and straw, and held them 
thereof highly pleased." Miss Yonge. 



Execution of Queen Anne Boleyn. 



175 



XXVII. 

EXECUTION OF QUEEN ANNE BOLEYN. 

[Henry VIII. had married Catherine of Arragon, the widow of his 
deceased elder brother. No male heir and successor coming of this 
union, Henry divorced himself from Catherine, and married Anne Boleyn. 
Within three years he conceived a passion for Jane Seymour, and, 
in order to marry her, secured from a subservient court and Church 
a sentence of death upon Queen Anne on a charge of unchastity and 
treason.] 

The queen was ordered for exe- 
cution on the 19th of May, and 
it was decreed by Henry that she 
should be beheaded on the green 
within the Tower. It was a case 
I without precedent in the annals of 
England, for never before had fe- 
male blood been shed on the scaf- 
fold ; even in the Norman reigns of 
terror, woman's life had been held 
sacred, and the most merciless of 
the Pla.ntagenet sovereigns had been too manly, under any 
provocation or pretense, to butcher ladies. On Friday, the 
19th of May, 1536, the last sad morning of her life, Anne 
rose two hours after midnight, and resumed her devotions 
with her almoner. When she was about to receive the sacra- 
ment, she sent for Sir William Kingston, that he might be a 
witness of her last solemn protestation of innocence of the 
crimes for which she was sentenced to die, before she became 
partaker of the holy rite. It is difficult to imagine any per- 
son wantonly provoking the wrath of God by incurring the 
crime of perjury at such a moment. She had evidently no 
hope of prolonging her life, and appeared not only resigned 
to die, but impatient of the unexpected delay of an hour 




HENRY VIII. 



176 Pictures from English History. 

or two before the closing scene was to take place. This 
delay was caused by the misgivings of Henry ; for King- 
ston had advised Cromwell not to fix the hour for the 
execution so that it could be exactly known when it was 
to take place, lest it should draw an influx of spectators from 
the city. 

It does not appear that Anne condescended to implore the 
mercy of the king. She knew his pitiless nature too well, 
even to make the attempt to touch his feelings after the 
horrible imputations with which he had branded her; and 
this lofty spirit looks like the pride of innocence, and the 
bitterness of a deeply- wounded mind. While Kingston was 
writing his last report to Cromwell of her preparations for the 
awful change that awaited her, she sent for him, and said, 
" Mr. Kingston, I hear that I shall not die afore noon, and I 
am very sorry therefor, for I thought to be dead by this time, 
and past my pain." " I told her," said Kingston, " that the 
pain should be little, it was so subtle." And then she said, 
" I have heard say the executioner is very good, and I have 
a little neck," and put her hands about it, laughing heartily. 
" I have seen men and also women executed, and they have 
been in great sorrow," continues the lieutenant of the Tower; 
"but, to my knowledge, this lady hath much joy and pleas- 
ure in death. Sir, her almoner is continually with her, and 
hath been since two o'clock after midnight." Just before she 
went to execution, she sent this message to the king: "Com- 
mend me to his majesty, and tell him he hath been ever 
constant in his career of advancing me. ^ From a private 
gentlewoman he made me a marchioness ; from a marchioness 
a queen ; and, now he hath left no higher degree of honor, 
he gives my innocency the crown of martyrdom."^' 

The hour appointed by her ruthless consort for her execu- 
tion having been kept a profound mystery, only a few priv- 
ileged spectators were assembled to witness the dreadful, yet 
strangely exciting, pageant. A few minutes before twelve 



Execution of Queen Anne Boleyn. 177 

o'clock the portals through which she was to pass for the last 
time were thrown open, and the royal victim appeared, led 
by the lieutenant of the Tower, who acted as her lord-cham- 
berlain at this last fatal ceremonial. Anne was dressed in a 
robe of black damask, with a deep white cape falling over it 
on her neck. Instead of the pointed black velvet hood 
edged with pearls, which is familiar to us in her portraits, she 
wore a small hat with ornamented coifs under it. The high 
resolve with which she had nerved herself to go through the 
awful scene that awaited her, as became a queen, had doubt- 
less recalled the luster to her eyes, and flushed her faded 
cheek with hues of feverish brightness; for she came forth in 
fearful beauty. " Never," says an eye-witness of the tragedy, 
"had the queen looked so beautiful before." She was at- 
tended by the four maids of honor who had waited upon her 
in prison. Having been assisted by Sir William Kingston to 
ascend the steps of the scaffold, she then saw assembled the 
lord mayor and some of the civic dignitaries, and her great 
enemy, the Duke of Suffolk, with Henry's natural son, the 
Duke of Richmond, who had, in defiance of all decency and 
humanity, come hither to disturb her last moments with 
their unfriendly espionage. There also was the ungrateful 
blacksmith, Secretary of State Cromwell; who, though he had 
been chiefly indebted to the patronage of Anne Boleyn for 
his present greatne'ss, had shown no disposition to succor her 
in her adversity. The fact was, he meant to make alliance 
offensive and defensive with the family of Henry's bride- 
elect, Jane Seymour. Anne accorded him the mercy of her 
silence, when she met him on the scaffold. She came there, 
as she with true dignity observed, " to die, and not to accuse 
her enemies." When she looked round, she turned to King- 
ston, and entreated him " not to hasten the signal for her 
death till she had spoken that which was on her mind to 
say ; " to which he consented, and then she spoke : 

" Good Christian people, I am come hither to die according 
8* 



178 Pictures from English History. 

to law, for by the law I am judged to die, and, therefore, I 
will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to accuse no 
man, nor to speak any thing of that whereof I am accused, as 
I know full well that aught I could say in my defense doth 
not appertain unto you, and that I could draw no hope of 
life from the same. But I come here only to die, and thus to 
yield myself humbly unto the will of my lord the king. I 
pray God to save the king, and send him long to reign over 
you, for a gentler or more merciful prince was there never. 
To me he was ever a good and gentle sovereign lord. If any 
persons will meddle with my cause, I require them to judge 
the best. Thus I take my leave of the world and of you, and 
I heartily desire you all to pray for me." 

She then with her own hands removed her hat and collar, 
which might impede the action of the sword, and taking the 
coifs from her head delivered them to one of her ladies. 
Then covering her hair with a little linen cap — for it seems 
as if her ladies were too much overpowered with grief and 
terror to assist her, and that she was the only person who re- 
tained her composure — she said, *' Alas, poor head ! in a very 
brief space thou wilt roll in the dust on the scaffold; and as 
in life thou didst not merit to wear the crown of a queen, so 
in death thou deserveth no better doom than this." All 
present were then in tears, save the base court sycophants 
who came to flatter the evil passions of the sovereign. Anne 
took leave of her weeping ladies in these pathetic words : 

"And ye, my damsels, who, while I lived, ever showed 
yourselves so diligent in my service, and who are now to be 
present at my last hour and mortal agony, as in good fortune 
ye were faithful to me, so even at this ray miserable death ye 
do not forsake me. And as I cannot reward you for your 
true service to me, I pray you take comfort for my loss ; 
howbeit, forget me not, and be always faithful to the king's 
grace, and to her whom, with happier fortune, ye may have 
as your queen and mistress. And esteem your honor far 



Execution of Queen Anne Boleyn. 179 

beyond your life ; and, in your prayers to the Lord Jesu, 
forget not to pray for my soul." 

Among these true-hearted adherents of the fallen queen 
was the companion of her childhood, Mary Wyatt, Sir Thomas 
Wyatt's sister, who, faithful through every reverse, attended 
her on the scaffold. To this tried friend Anne Boleyn gave, 
as a parting gift, her last possession — a little book of devo- 
tions, bound in gold, and enameled black, which she had 
held in her hand from the time she left her apartment in the 
Tower till she commenced her preparations for the block. 
Mary always wore this precious relic in her bosom. Some 
mysterious last words, supposed to be a message to Sir 
Thomas Wyatt, the queen was observed to whisper very 
earnestly to Mary Wyatt before she knelt down. One of her 
ladies covered her eyes with a bandage ; and then they with- 
drew themselves some little space, and knelt down over 
against the scaffold, bewailing bitterly and shedding many 
tears. 

And thus, and without more to say or do, was her head 
struck off; she making no confession of her fault, but saying, 
" O Lord God, have pity on my soul ! " She died with great 
resolution. Her eyes and lips were observed to move when 
the head was held up by the executioner. It is also said 
that before those beautiful eyes sunk in the dimness of 
death, they seemed for an instant mournfully to regard her 
bleeding body as it fell on the scaffold. 

The gentle females who had followed their royal mistress 
to her doleful prison and dishonoring scaffold, half fainting, 
and drowned in tears as they were, surrounded her mangled 
remains, now a spectacle appalling to woman's eyes ; yet 
they would not abandon them to the ruffian hands of the 
executioner and his assistants, but with unavailing tender- 
ness washed away the blood from the lovely face and glossy 
hair that scarcely three years before had been proudly dec- 
orated with the crown of St. Edward. It is to be lamented 



i8o Pictures from English History. 

that history has only preserved one name out of this gentle 
sisterhood, that of Mary Wyatt, when all were worthy to 
have been inscribed in golden characters in every page 
sacred to female tenderness and charity. 

Miss Strickland. 



XXVIII. 

THE PROTESTANT MARTYRS. 

[Edward VT. — a short reign — and then Mary, succeeded their father, 
Henry VIII. Mary was a bigoted Catholic, and set herself to uproot 
Protestantism, and bring England again under obedience to the See of 
Rome. This provoked resistance from her subjects, and a resort to bloody 
persecutions on her part.] 

Whether from without or from within, warning was wasted 
on the fierce bigotry of the queen. It was, as Gardiner 
asserted, not at the counsel of her ministers, but by her own 
personal will, that the laws against heresy had been laid be- 
fore Parliament; and now that they were enacted Mary 
pressed for their execution. Her resolve was probably 
quickened by the action of the Protestant zealots. The fail- 
ure of Wyat's revolt was far from taming the enthusiasm of 
the wilder reformers. The restoration of the old worship was 
followed by outbreaks of bold defiance. A tailor of St. Giles- 
in-the-Fields shaved a dog with the priestly tonsure. A cat 
was found hanging in the Cheap "with her head shorn, and 
the likeness of a vestment cast over her, with her forefeet 
tied together, and a round piece of paper like a singing cake 
between them." Yet more galling were the ballads which 
were circulated in mockery of the mass, the pamphlets which 
came from the exiles over sea, the seditious broadsides 
dropped in the streets, the interludes in which the most 
sacred acts of the old religion were flouted with ribald 



The Protestant Martyrs. 



mockery. All this defiance only served to quicken afresh the 
purpose of the queen. But it was not till the opening of 
'555' when she had already been a year and a half on the 
throne, that the opposition of her councilors was at last 
mastered, and the persecution began. In February the de- 
prived Bishop of Gloucester, Hooper, was burned in his 
cathedral city, a London vicar, Lawrence Saunders, at Cov- 
entry, and Rogers, a prebendary of St. Paul's, at London. 
Ferrar, the deprived bishop of St. David's, who was burned 
at Caermarthen, was one of eight victims who suffered in 
March. Four followed in April and May, six in June, eleven 
in July, eighteen in August, eleven in September. In Octo- 
ber, Ridley, the deprived bishop of London, was drawn with 
Latimer from their prison at Oxford. "Play the man, Mas- 
ter Ridley ! " cried the old preacher of the Reformation, as 
the flames shot up around him ; " we shall this day light up 
such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall 
never be put out." 

If the Protestants had not known how to govern, indeed 
they knew how to die ; and the cause which prosperity had 
ruined revived in the dark hour of persecution. The mem- 
ory of their violence and greed faded away as they passed 
unwavering to their doom. Such a story as that of Rowland 
Taylor, the vicar of Hadleigh, tells us more of the work which 
was now begun, and of the effect it was likely to produce, 
than pages of historic dissertation. Taylor, who as a man 
of mark had been one of the first victims chose for execution, 
was arrested in London, and condemned to suffer in his own 
parish. His wife, " suspecting that her husband should that 
night be carried away," had waited through the darkness 
with her children in the porch of St. Botolph's-beside-Ald- 
gate. 

" Now when the sheriff and his company came against St. 
Botolph's Church, Elizabeth cried, saying, ' O, my dear 
father ! Mother ! mother ! here is my father led away ! ' 



i82 Pictures from English History. 

Then cried his wife, ' Rowland, Rowland, where art thou ? ' 
for it was a very dark morning, that the one could not see the 
other. Dr. Taylor answered, ' I am here, dear wife,' and 
stayed. The sheriff's men would have led him forth, but the 
sheriff said, ' Stay a little, masters, I pray you, and let him 
speak to his wife.' Then came she to him, and he took his 
daughter Mary in his arms, and he and his wife and Eliza- 
beth knelt down and said the Lord's Prayer: at which sight 
the sheriff wept apace, and so did divers others of the 
company. After they had prayed, he rose up and kissed his 
wife and shook her by the hand, and said, ' Farewell, my 
dear wife, be of good comfort, for I am quiet in my con- 
science ! God shall still be a father to my children.' . . . 
Then said his wife, ' God be with thee, dear Rowland ! I will, 
with God's grace, meet thee at Hadleigh.' 

"All the way Dr. Taylor was merry and cheerful as one 
that accounted himself going to a most pleasant banquet or 
bridal. . . . Coming within two miles of Hadleigh he desired 
to light off his horse, which done, he leaped and set a frisk 
or twain as men commonly do for dancing. 'Why, Master 
Doctor,' quoth the sheriff, ' how do you now ? ' He answered, 
' Well, God be praised, Master Sheriff; never better, for now 
I know that I am almost at home. I lack not past two stiles 
to go over, and I am even at my Father's house!' The 
streets of Hadleigh were beset on both sides with men and 
women of the town and country who waited to see him whom, 
when they beheld so led to death, with weeping eyes and 
lamentable voices, they cried, ' Ah, good Lord ! there goeth 
our good shepherd from us ! ' " The journey was at last 
over. "'What place is this,' he asked, 'and what meaneth 
it that so much people are gathered together.?' It was 
answered. ' It is Oldham Common, the place where you must 
suffer, and the people are come to look upon you.' Then 
said he, * Thanked be God, I am even at home ! ' But when 
the people saw his reverend and ancient face, with a long 



The Protestant Martyrs. 183 

white beard, they burst out with weeping tears, and cried, 
saying, ' God save thee, good Dr. Taylor ; God strengthen 
thee, and help thee; the Holy Ghost comfort thee!' He 
wished, but was not suffered, to speak. When he had prayed, 
he went to the stake and kissed it, and set himself into a 
pitch-barrel which they had set for him to stand on, and so 
stood with his back upright against the stake, with his hands 
folded together and his eyes toward heaven, and so let him- 
self be burned." One of his executioners cruelly cast a fag- 
ot at him, which hit upon his head, and brake his face that 
the blood ran down his visage. Then said Dr. Taylor, " O, 
friend, I have harm enough, what needed that.? " One more 
act of brutality brought his sufferings to an end. *' So stood 
he still without either crying or moving, with his hands 
folded together, till Soyce, with a halberd, struck him on the 
head that the brains fell out, and the dead corpse fell down 
into the fire." 

The terror of death was powerless against men like these. 
Bonner, the bishop of London, to whom, as bishop of the 
diocese in which the Council sate, its victims were generally 
delivered for execution, but who, in spite of the nickname 
and hatred which his official prominence in the work of death 
earned him, seems to have been naturally a good-humored 
and merciful man, asked a youth who was brought before 
him whether he thought he could bear the fire. The boy at 
once held his hand without flinching in the flame of a candle 
that stood by. Rogers, a fellow-worker with Tyndale in the 
translation of the Bible, and one of the foremost among the 
Protestant preachers, died bathing his hands in the flame, 
" as if it had been in cold water." Even the commonest 
lives gleamed for a moment into poetry at the stake. " Pray 
for me," a boy, William Brown, who had been brought home 
to Brentwood to suffer, asked of the by-standers. " I will 
pray no more for thee," one of them replied, " than I will 
pray for a dog." " ' Then,' said William, ' Son of God, shine 



1S4 Pictures from English History. 

upon me ; ' and immediately the sun in the elements shone 
out of a dark cloud so full in his face that he was constrained 
to look another way ; whereat the people mused because it 
was so dark a little time before." Brentwood lay within a 
district on which the hand of the queen fell heavier than 
elsewhere. 

The persecution was mainly confined to the more active 
and populous parts of the country, to London, Kent, Sussex, 
and the eastern counties. Of the two hundred and eighty 
whom we know to have suffered during the last three years 
and a half of Mary's reign more than forty were burned in 
London, seventeen in the neighboring village of Stratford- 
le-Bow, four in Islington, two in Southwark, and one each 
at Barnet, St. Albans, and Ware. Kent, at that time a 
home of mining and manufacturing industry, suffered as 
heavily as London. In the midland counties, between the 
Thames and the Humber, only twenty four suffered martyr- 
dom. North of the Humber we find the names of but two 
Yorkshiremen, burned at Bedale. 

John Richard Green. 



XXIX. 

MARY AND PHILIP. 

[To still further identify her reign with the cause of Rome, and to 
strengthen it on the Continent, Mary entered into the " Spanish marriage" 
witli Philip of Spain.] 

If congeniality of tastes could have made a marriage happy, 
that union should have been thrice blessed. To maintain 
the supremacy of the Church seemed to both the main object 
of existence ; to execute unbelievers the most sacred duty 
imposed by the Deity upon anointed princes; to convert their 



Mary and Philip. 185 



kingdoms into a hell the surest means of winning heaven for 
themselves. It was not strange that the conjunction of two 
such wonders of superstition in one sphere should have 
seemed portentous in the eyes of the English people. Phil- 
ip's mock efforts in favor of certain condemned reformers, 
and his pretended intercessions in favor of the Princess 
Elizabeth, failed entirely of their object. The Parliament 
refused to confer upon him more than a nominal authority 
in England. His children, should they be born, might be 
sovereigns ; he was but husband of the queen — of a woman 
who could not atone by her abject but peevish fondness for 
himself, and by her congenial bloodthirstiness toward her 
subjects, for her eleven years' seniority, her deficiency in at- 
tractions, and her incapacity to make him the father of a line 
of English monarchs. It almost excites compassion, even 
for Mary Tudor, when her passionate efforts to inspire him 
with affection are contrasted with his impassiveness. Tyrant, 
bigot, murderess though she was, she was still a woman, and 
she lavished upon her husband all that was not ferocious in 
her nature. Forbidding prayers to be said for the soul of 
her father, hating her sister and her people, burning bishops, 
bathing herself in the blood of heretics, to Philip she was all 
submissiveness and feminine devotion. 

It was a most singular contrast, Mary the queen of En- 
gland, and Mary the wife of Philip. Small, lean, and sickly, 
painfully near-sighted, yet with an eye of fierceness and fire ; 
her face wrinkled by the hands of care and evil passions 
more than by Time ; with a big man's voice, whose harshness 
made those in the next room tremble ; yet feminine in her 
tastes, skillful with her needle, fond of embroidery work, 
striking the lute with a touch remarkable for its science and 
feeling, speaking many languages, including Latin, with flu- 
ency and grace ; most feminine, too, in her constitutional 
sufferings, hysterical of habit, shedding floods of tears daily 
at Philip's coldness, undisguised infidelity, and frequent 



1 86 Pictures from English History, 

absences from England — she almost awakens compassion and 
causes a momentary oblivion of hre identity. 

Her subjects, already half maddened by religious persecu- 
tion, were exasperated still further by the pecuniary burdens 
which she imposed upon them to supply the king's exigencies, 
and she unhesitatingly confronted their frenzy in the hope 
of winning a smile from him. When at last her chronic 
maladies had assumed the memorable form which caused 
Philip and Mary to unite in a letter to Cardinal Pole, an- 
nouncing, not the expected, but the acttial, birth of a prince, 
but judiciously leaving the date in blank, the momentary 
satisfaction and delusion of the queen was unbounded. The 
false intelligence was transmitted every-where. Great were 
the joy and the festivities in the Netherlands, where people 
were so easily made to rejoice and keep holiday for anything. 
" The regent being in Antwerp," wrote Sir Thomas Gres- 
ham, to the lords of council, " did cause the great bell to 
ringe to give all men to understand that the news was trewe. 
The queen's highness' mere merchants caused all our Inglishe 
ships to shoote off with much joy and triumph, as by men's arts 
and pollicy could be devised— and the regent sent our Inglishe 
maroners one hundred crowns to drynke," If bell-ringing 
and cannon-liring could have given England a Spanish sov- 
ereign, the devoutly-wished consummation would have been 
reached. When the futility of the royal hopes could no longer 
be concealed, Philip left the country, never to return till his 
war with France made him require troops, subsidies, and a 
declaration of hostilities from England, 

John Lothrop Motley. 



Execution of Mary Queen of Scots. 187 

XXX. 

EXECUTIOjST of MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 

[Elizabeth was as devotedly Protestant as her sister Mary had been 
Romish, and she restored the religion of their father, Henry VIII. A 
succession of Catholic plots against her throne and life in England, Scot- 
land, and Spain agitated her reign. Mary Stuart, queen of Scotland, her 
cousin, granddaughter of Henry VII., having been driven from her throne 
(1568) in consequence of her re-introduction of Catholicism, took refuge in 
England, and was imprisoned as a pretender to the throne of England. 
In 1586 the Babington conspiracy betvi'een Mary and English Catholics 
for the assassination of Elizabeth and the seizure of the crown having been 
discovered, Mary was tried and sentenced to death. The following de- 
scription of the oft-told scene is one of Froude's finest word-pictures.] 

The end had come. She had long professed to expect it, 
but the clearest expectation is not certainty. The scene for 
which she had affected to prepare she was to encounter in 
its dread reality, and all her busy schemes, her dreams of 
vengeance, her visions of a revolution, with herself ascend- 
ing out of the convulsion and seating herself on her rival's 
throne — all were gone. She had played deep, and the dice 
had gone against her. . . . Her last night was a busy one. 
As she said herself, there was much to be done, and the time 
was short. A few lines to the King of France were dated 
two hours after midnight. They were to insist, for the last 
time, that she was innocent of the conspiracy, that she was 
dying for religion, and for having asserted her right to the 
crown ; and to beg that, out of the sum which he owed her, 
her servants' wages might be paid and masses provided for 
her soul. After this she slept for three or four hours, then 
rose, and with the most elaborate care prepared to encounter 
the end. 

At eight in the morning the provost-marshal knocked at 
the outer door which communicated with her suite of apart- 
ments. It was locked, and no one answered. He went 



i88 Pictures from English History. 

back in some trepidation lest the fears might prove true 
which had been entertained the preceding evening. On his 
returning with the sheriff, however, a few minutes later, the 
door was open, and they were confronted with the tall, 
majestic figure of Mary Stuart standing before them in 
splendor. The plain, gray dress had been exchanged for a 
robe of black satin ; her jacket was of black satin also, looped 
and slashed, and trimmed with velvet. Her false hair was 
arranged studiously with a coif, and over her head, and fall- 
ing down over her back, was a white Veil of delicate lawn. 
A crucifix of gold hung from her neck. In her hand she 
held a crucifix of ivory, and a number of jeweled paternos- 
ters was attached to her girdle. Led by two of Paulet's 
gentlemen, the sheriff walking before her, she passed to the 
chamber of presence in which she had been tried, where 
Shrewsbury, Kent, Paulet, Drury, and others were waiting to 
receive her, 

Andrew Melville, Sir Robert's brother, who had been 
master of her household, was kneeling in tears. " Melville," 
she said, "you should rather rejoice than weep that the end 
of my troubles is come. Tell my friends I die a true Catho- 
lic. Commend me to my son. Tell him I have done noth- 
ing to prejudice his kingdom of Scotland, and so, good 
Melville, farewell." She kissed him, and turning, asked for 
her chaplain, Du Preau. He was not present. There had 
been a fear of some religious melodrama which it was 
thought well to avoid. Her ladies, who had attempted to 
follow her, had been kept back also. She could not afford 
to leave the account of her death to be reported by enemies 
and Puritans, and she required assistance for the scene 
which she meditated. Missing them, she asked the reason of 
their absence, and said she wished them to see her die. 
Kent said he feared they might scream or faint, or attempt, 
perhaps, to dip their handkerchiefs in her blood. She un- 
dertook that they should be quiet and obedient. " The 



Execution of Mary Queen of Scots. 189 

queen," she said, " would never deny her so slight a re- 
quest ; " and when Kent still hesitated, she added, with 
tears, " You know I am cousin to your queen, of the blood 
of Henry VII., a married Queen of France, and anointed 
Queen of Scotland ! " It was impossible to refuse. She 
was allowed to take six of her own people with her, and 
select them herself. She chose her physician, Burgoyne, 
Andrew Melville, the apothecary Gorion, and her sur- 
geon, with two ladies, Elizabeth Kennedy and Curie's 
young wife, Barbara, Mowbray whose child she had bap- 
tized. 

^'' Allons done,'' she then said, " let us go," and passing out 
attended by the earls, and leaning on the arm of an officer of 
the guard, she descended the great staircase to the hall. The 
news had spread far through the country. Thousands of 
people were collected outside the walls. About three hun- 
dred knights and gentlemen of the county had been admit- 
ted to witness the execution. The tables and forms had 
been removed, and a great wood-fire was blazing in the 
chimney. At the upper end of the hall, above the fire-place, 
but near it, stood the scaffold, twelve feet square and two 
feet and a half high. It was covered with black cloth ; a 
low rail ran round it covered with black cloth also, and the 
sheriff's guard of halberdiers were ranged on the floor below 
on the four sides, to keep off the crowd. On the scaffold was 
the block, black like the rest ; a square black cushion v/as 
placed behind it, and behind the cushion a black chair ; on 
the right were two other chairs for the earls. The ax leant 
against the rail, and two masked figures stood like mutes on 
either side at the back. The Queen of Scots, as she swept 
in, seemed as if coming to take a part in some solemn pa- 
geant. Not a muscle of her face could be seen to quiver ; 
she ascended the scaffold with absolute composure, looked 
round her smiling, and sat down. Shrewsbury and Kent 
followed and took their places, the sheriff stood at her left 



igo Pictures from English History. 

hand, and Beale then mounted a platform and read the war- 
rant aloud. 

In all the assembly Mary Stuart appeared the person least 
interested in the words which were consigning her to 
death. 

" Madam," said Lord Shrewsbury to her, when the reading 
was ended, "you hear what we are commanded to do." 

" You will do your duty," she answered, and rose as if to 
kneel and pray. 

The Dean of Peterborough, Dr. Fletcher, approached the 
rail. " Madam," he began, with a low obeisance, " the 
queen's most excellent majesty — " " Madam, the queen's 
most excellent majesty — " Thrice he commenced his sen- 
tence, wanting words to pursue it. When he repeated the 
words a fourth time she cut him short. 

" Mr. Dean," she said, " I am a Catholic, and must die a 
Catholic. It is useless to attempt to move me, and your 
prayers will avail me but little." " Change your opinion, 
madam," he cried, his tongue being loosed at last; "repent 
of your sins, settle your faith in Christ, by him to be saved." 
" Trouble not yourself further, Mr. Dean," she answered ; 
" I am settled in my own faith, for which I mean to shed my 
blood." "I am sorry, madam," said Shrewsbury, "to see 
you so addicted to popery." 

" That image of Christ you hold there," said Kent, " will 
not profit you if he be not engraved in your heart." She did 
not reply, and, turning her back on Fletcher, knelt for her 
own devotions. He had been evidently instructed to impair 
the Catholic complexion of the scene, and the Queen of 
Scots was determined that he should not succeed. When 
she knelt he commenced an extempore prayer, in which the 
assembly joined. As his voice sounded out in the hall she 
raised her own, reciting with powerful, deep-chested tones 
the penitential psalms in Latin, introducing English sentences 
at intervals, that the audience might know what she was 



Execution of Mary Queen of Scots. 191 

saying, and praying with especial distinctness for her holy 
father, the pope. 

From time to time, with conspicuous vehemence she struck 
the crucifix against her bosom, and then, as the dean gave 
up the struggle, leaving her Latin, she prayed in English 
wholly, still clear and loud. She prayed for the Church 
which she had been ready to betray, for her son whom she 
had disinherited, for the queen whom she had endeavored to 
murder. She prayed God to avert his wrath from England — 
that England which she had sent a last message to Philip to 
beseech him to invade. She forgave her enemies, whom she 
had invited Philip not to forget, and then, praying to the 
saints to intercede for her with Christ, and kissing the cru- 
cifix and crossing her own breast, " Even as thy arms, O 
Jesus," she cried, " were spread upon the cross, so receive 
me into thy mercy and forgive my sins." 

With these words she rose. The black mutes stepped 
forward, and ian the usual form begged her forgiveness. " I 
forgive you," she said, " for now I hope you shall end all my 
troubles." They offered their help in arranging her dress. 
"Truly, my lords," she said, with a smile, to the earls, "I 
never had such grooms waiting on me before." Her ladies 
were allowed to come up upon the scaffold to assist her ; 
for the work to be done was considerable, and had been 
prepared with no common thought. 

She laid her crucifix on her chair. The chief executioner 
took it as a perquisite, but was ordered instantly to lay it 
down. The lawn vail was lifted carefully off, not to disturb 
the hair, and was hung upon the rail. The black robe was 
next removed. Below it was a petticoat of crimson velvet. 
The black jacket followed, and under the jacket was a body 
of crimson satin. One of her ladies handed her a pair of 
crimson sleeves, with which she hastily covered her arms ; 
and thus she stood on the black scaffold with the black 
figures all around her, blood-red from head to foot. Her 



192 Pictures from English History. 

reasons for adopting so extraordinary a costume must be left 
to conjecture. It is only certain that it must have been care- 
fully studied, and that the pictorial effect must have been 
appalling. 

The women, whose firmness had hitherto borne the trial, 
began now to give way, spasmodic sobs bursting from them 
which they could not check. ^'' Ne criez vous,'' she said; 
^^fai promts pozir vous," (" Do not cry; I have promised for 
you.") Struggling bravely, they crossed their breasts again 
and again, she crossing them in turn and bidding them pray 
for her. Then she knelt on the cushion. Barbara Mowbray 
bound her eyes with a handkerchief. "Adieu," she said, 
smiling for the last time, and waving her hand to them, 
^^ Adieu, au revoiry They stepped back from off the scaf- 
fold, and left her alone. On her knees she repeated the 
psalm, " //^ tc^ Doniine, ccjijido,'" ("In thee, O Lord, have I 
put my trust.") Her shoulders being exposed, two scars be- 
came visible, one on either side, and, the earls being now a 
little behind her, Kent pointed to them with his white wand 
and looked inquiringly at his companion. Shrewsbury whis- 
pered that they were the remains of two abscesses from 
which she had suffered while living with him at Sheffield. 

When the psalm was finished she felt for the block, and, 
laying down her head, muttered, "/« manus, Domine tuas, 
conimendo a72i7nam meatn." The hard wood seemed to hurt 
her, for she placed her hands under her neck. The execu- 
tioners gently removed them, lest they should deaden the 
blow, and then, one of them holding her slightly, the other 
raised the ax and struck. The scene had been too trying 
even for the practiced headsman of the Tower. His arm 
wandered. The blow fell on the knot of the handkerchief 
and scarcely broke the skin. She neither spoke nor moved. 
He struck again, this time effectively. The head hung by a 
shred of skin, which he divided without withdrawing the ax; 
and at once a metamorphosis was witnessed strange as was 



Execution of Mary Queen of Scots. 193 

ever wrought by wand of fabled enchanter. The coif fell 
off, and the false plaits. The labored illusion vanished. 
The lady who had knelt before the block was in the maturity 
of grace and loveliness. The executioner, when he raised 
the head, as usual, to show it to the crowd, exposed the 
withered features of a grizzled, wrinkled old woman. 

" So perish all enemies of the queen ! " said the Dean of 
Peterborough. A loud " Amen ! " rose over the hall. " S-uch 
end," said the Earl of Kent, rising and standing over the 
body, " to the queen's and the Gospel's enemies ! " 

Orders had been given that every thing which she had 
worn should be immediately destroyed, that no relics should 
be carried off to work imaginary miracles. Sentinels stood 
at the doors, who allowed no one to pass out without permis- 
sion ; and after the first pause, the earls still keeping their 
places, the body was stripped. It then appeared that a fa- 
vorite lap-dog had followed its mistress unperceived, and 
was concealed under her clothes. When discovered it gave 
a short cry, and seated itself between the head and the neck, 
from which the blood was still flowing. It was carried away 
and carefully washed, and then beads, paternoster, handker- 
chief — each particle of dress which the blood had touched — 
with the cloth on the block and on the scaffold, was burnt in 
the hall-fire in the presence of the crowd. The scaffold it- 
self was next removed ; a brief account of the execution was 
drawn up, with which Henry Talbot, Lord Shrewsbury's son, 
was sent to London, and then every one was dismissed. 
Silence settled down on Fotheringay, and the last scene of 
the life of Mary Stuart, in which tragedy and melodrama 
were so strangly intermingled, was over. 

James Anthony Froude. 

9 



194 Pictures from English History. 

XXXI. 

THE SPANISH ARMADA. 

[In her later years Elizabeth had to struggle against Philip of Spain. 
Philip was eager to crush Protestantism in Western Europe, and this could 
only be done by crushing England. He was still more anxious to keep 
Englishmen out of the seas of the New World, which he claimed as his 
own. Philip resolved to make an effort for the complete conquest of En- 
gland, and gathered a great fleet in the Tagus and an army in Flanders 
for that purpose. The Armada, as the fleet was called, was ordered to sail 
through the Channel to the Flemish coast to join the army there, and pro- 
tect its crossing to England.] 

On Friday, the 29th of July, 1588, off the Lizard, the Span- 
iards had their first glimpse of the land of promise presented 
them by Pope Sixtus V., of which they had at last come to 
take possession. On the same day and night the blaze and 
smoke of ten thousand beacon-fires, from the Land's End to 
Margate, and from the Isle of Wight to Cumberland, gave 
warning to every Englishman that the enemy was at last upon 
them. ... On Saturday, 30th July, the wind was very light 
at south-west, with a mist and drizzling rain, but by three in 
the afternoon the two fleets could descry and count each 
other through the haze. By nine o'clock, 31st July, about 
two miles from Looe, on the Cornish coast, the fleets had 
their meeting. 

There were 136 sail of the Spaniards — of which 90 were 
large ships — and 67 of the English. It was a solemn mo- 
ment. The long-expected Armada presented a pompous, 
almost a theatrical, appearance. The ships seemed arranged 
for a pageant in honor of a victory already won. Disposed 
in form of a crescent, the horns of which were seven miles 
asunder, those gilded, towered, floating castles, with their 
gaudy standards and their martial music, moved slowly along 
the Channel with an air of indolent pomp. Their captain- 
general, the Golden Duke, stood in his private shot-proof 



The Spanish Armada, 



195 



fortress on the deck of his great galleon, the " Saint Martin," 
surrounded by generals of infantry and colonels of cavalry, 
who knew as little as he did himself of naval matters. The 
English vessels, on the other hand — with a few exceptions, 
light, swift, and easily handled — could sail round and round 
those unwieldy galleons, hulks, and galleys rowed by fettered 
slave-gangs. The superior seamanship of free Englishmen, 
commanded by such experienced captains as Drake, Fro- 
bisher, and Hawkins — from infancy at home on blue water 
— was manifest in the very first encounter. They obtained 
the weather-gage at once, and cannonaded the enemy at 
intervals with considerable effect, easily escaping at will out 
of range of the sluggish Armada, which was incapable of 
bearing sail in pursuit, although provided with an armament 
which could sink all its enemies at close quarters. " We had 
some small fight with them that Sunday afternoon," said 
Hawkins. 

Medina-Sidonia hoisted the royal standard at the fore, 
and the whole fleet did its utmost, which was little, to offer 
general battle. It was in vain. The English, following at 
the heels of the enemy, refused all such invitations, and at- 
tacked only the rear-guard of the Armada, where Recalde 
commanded. That admiral, steadily maintaining his post, 
faced his nimble antagonists, who continued to teaze, to 
maltreat, and to elude him, wliile the rest of the fleet pro- 
ceeded slowly up the Channel, closely followed by the 
enemy. And thus the running fight continued along the 
coast, in full view of Plymouth, whence boats with re-enforce- 
ments and volunteers were perpetually arriving to the En- 
glish ships, until the battle had drifted quite out of reach of 
the town. 

Already in this first " small fight " the Spaniards had 
learned a lesson, and might even entertain a doubt of their 
invincibility. But before the sun set there were more serious 
disasters. Much powder and shot had been expended by 



196 Pictures from English History. 

the Spaniards to very little purpose, and so a master-gunner 
on board Admiral Oquendo's flag-ship was reprimanded for 
careless ball-practice. The gunner, who was a Fleming, en- 
raged with his captain, laid a train to the powder-magazine, 
fired it, and threw himself into the sea. The two decks 
blew up. The great castle at the stern rose into the clouds, 
carrying with it the paymaster-general of the fleet, a large 
portion of treasure, and nearly two hundred men. The ship 
was a wreck, but it was possible to save the rest of the crew. 
So Medina-Sidonia sent light vessels to remove them, and 
wore with his flag-ship to defend Oquendo, who had already 
been fastened upon by his English pursuers. But the Span- 
iards, not being so light in hand as their enemies, involved 
themselves in much embarrassment by this maneuver ; 
and there was much falling foul of each other, entanglement 
of rigging, and carrying away of yards. Oquendo's men, 
however, were ultimately saved, and taken to other ships. 

Meantime, Don Pedro de Valdez, commander of the 
Andalusian squadron, having got his galleon into collision 
with two or three Spanish ships successively, had at last 
carried away his foremast close to the deck, and the wreck 
had fallen against his mainmast. He lay crippled and help- 
less, the Armada was slowly deserting him, night was coming 
on, the sea was running, high, and the English, ever hovering 
near, were ready to grapple with him. In vain did Don 
Pedro fire signals of distress. The captain-general — even as 
though the unlucky galleon had not been connected with the 
Catholic fleet — ;calmly fired a gun to collect his scattered 
ships, and abandoned Valdez to his fate. " He left me 
comfortless in sight of the whole fleet," said poor Pedro, 
" and greater inhumanity and unthankfulness I think was 
never heard of among men." 

Yet the Spaniard comported himself most gallantly. Fro- 
bisher, in the largest ship of the English fleet, the "Tri- 
umph," of 1,100 tons, and Hawkins in the "Victory," of 800, 



The Spanish Armada, ig) 

cannonaded him at a distance, but, night coming on, he was 
able to resist; and it was not till the following morning that 
he surrendered to the "Revenge." 

Drake then received the gallant prisoner on board his flag- 
ship — much to the disgust and indignation of Frobisher and 
Hawkins, thus disappointed of their prize and ransom-money 
— treated him with much courtesy, and gave his word of 
honor that he and his men should be treated fairly, like good 
prisoners of war. This pledge was redeemed, for it was not 
the English, as it was the Spanish custom, to convert cap- 
tives into slaves, but only to hold them for ransom. Valdez 
responded to Drake's politeness by kissing his hand, em- 
bracing him, and overpowering him with magnificent com- 
pliments. He was then sent on board the lord-admiral, 
who received him with similar urbanity, and expressed his 
regret that so distinguished a personage should have been so 
cooly deserted by the Duke of Medina, Don Pedro then 
returned to the " Revenge," where, as the guest of Drake, he 
was a witness to all subsequent events up to the loth of 
August, on which day he was sent to London with some 
other officers, Sir Francis claiming his ransom as his lawful 
due. 

Here certainly was no very triumphant beginning for the 
Invincible Armada. On the very first day of their being in 
presence of the English fleet — then but sixty-seven in number, 
and vastly their inferior in size and weight of metal — they 
had lost the flag-ships of the Guipuzcoan and of the Anda- 
lusian squadrons, with a general-admiral, 450 officers and 
men, and some 100,000 ducats of treasure. They had been 
out-maneuvered, out-sailed, and thoroughly maltreated by 
their antagonists, and they had been unable to inflict a single 
blow in return. 

[Throughout a whole week the running fight went on, the Armada slowly 
making its way along the Channel, the English ships hanging on its flanks 
and rear. Many SpanisTi ships were sunk or taken ; but the great fleet still 



Pictures from English History. 



remained formidable when, in spite of its enemies, it at last reached the 
Flemish coast. If it was to be prevented from embarking the army which 
was destined for the invasion of England, a general engagement was now 
necessary ; and the English seamen resolved to close with the enemy.] 

The lord-admiral, who had been lying off and on, now 
bore away with all his force in pursuit of the Spaniards. 
The Invincible Armada, already sorely crippled, was stand- 
ing N. N. E. directly before a fresh topsail breeze from the 
S. S. W, The English came up with them soon after nine 
o'clock A. M, off Gravelines, and found them sailing in a 
half-moon, the admiral and vice-admiral in the center, and 
the flanks protected by the three remaining galeasses and by 
the great galleons of Portugal. 

Seeing the enemy approaching, Medina-Sidonia ordered 
his whole fleet to luff to the wind, and prepare for action. 
The wind, shifting a few points, was now at W. N.W., so that 
the English had both the weather- gage and the tide in their 
favor. A general combat began at about ten, and it was 
soon obvious to the Spaniards that their adversaries were in- 
tending warm work. Sir Francis Drake in the " Revenge," 
followed by Frobisher in the " Triumph," Hawkins in the 
"Victory," and some smaller vessels, made the first attack 
upon the Spanish flag-ships. Lord Henry in the " Rainbow," 
Sir Henry Palmer in the " Antelope," and others, engaged 
with three of the largest galleons of the Armada, while Sir 
William Winter in the "Vanguard," supported by most of 
his squadron, charged the starboard wing. . . . 

The battle lasted six hours long, hot and furious ; for now 
there was no excuse for retreat on the part of the Spaniards, 
but, on the contrary, it was the intention of the captain- 
general to return to his station off Calais — from which he had 
been driven the day before by English fire-ships — if it were 
within his power. Nevertheless the English still partially 
maintained the tactics which had proved so successful, and 
resolutely refused the fierce attempts of the Spaniards to lay 



The Spanish Armada. 199 

themselves alongside. Keeping within musket-range, the 
well-disciplined English mariners poured broadside after 
broadside against the towering ships of the Armada, which 
afforded so easy a mark ; while the Spaniards, on their part, 
found it impossible, while wasting incredible quantities of 
powder and shot, to inflict any severe damage on their ene- 
mies. Throughout the action, not an English ship was 
destroyed, and not a hundred men were killed. On the 
other hand, all the best ships of the Spaniards were riddled 
through and through, and the masts and yards shattered, 
sails and rigging torn to shreds, and a north-west wind still 
drifting them toward the fatal sand-banks of Holland, they 
labored heavily in a chopping sea, firing wildly, and receiving 
tremendous punishment at the hands of Howard, Drake, 
Seymour, Winter, and their followers. Not even master- 
gunner Thomas could complain that day of " blind exercise " 
on the part of the English, with " little harm done " to the 
enemy. There was scarcely a ship in the Armada that did 
not suffer severely ; for nearly all were engaged in that mem- 
orable action off the sands of Gravelines. The captain- 
general himself, Admiral Recalde, Alonzo de Leyva, 
Oquendo, Diego Flores de Valdez, Bertendona, Don Fran- 
cisco de Toledo, Don Diego de Pimentel, Telles Enriquez, 
Alonzo de Luzon, Garibay, with most of the great galleons 
and galleasses, were in the thickest of the fight, and one after 
the other each of those huge ships was disabled. Three 
sank before the fight was over, many others were soon drift- 
ing helpless wrecks toward a hostile shore, and, before five 
o'clock in the afternoon, at least sixteen of their best ships 
had been sacrificed, and from four to five thousand soldiers 
killed. 

Nearly all the largest vessels of the Armada, therefore, 
having been disabled or damaged — according to a Spanish 
eye-witness — and all their small shot exhausted, Medina-Si- 
donia reluctantly gave orders to retreat. The captain-general 



Pictures from English History, 



v/as a bad sailor, but he was a chivalrous Spaniard of ancient 
Gothic blood, and he felt deep mortification at the plight of 
his invincible fleet, together with undisguised resentment 
against Alexander Farnese, [the prince of Parma, who com- 
manded the Spanish army in Flanders, and who had not 
succeeded in joining the Armada,] through whose treachery 
and incapacity he considered the great Catholic cause to 
have been so foully sacrificed. Crippled, maltreated, and 
diminished in number as were his ships, he would have still 
faced the enemy, but the winds and currents were fast driv- 
ing him on the lee-shore, and the pilots, one and all, assured 
him that it would be inevitable destruction to remain. After 
a slight and ineffectual attempt to rescue Don Diego de Pim- 
entel in the " St. Matthew " — who refused to leave his dis- 
abled ship — and Don Francisco de Toledo, whose great gal- 
leon, the " St. Philip," was fast driving, a helpless wreck, 
toward Zeeland, the Armada bore away N.N.E. into the 
open sea, leaving those who could not follow to their fate. 

The " St. Matthew," in a sinking condition, hailed a Dutch 
fisherman, who was offered a gold chain to pilot her into 
Newport. But the fisherman, being a patriot, steered her 
close to the Holland fleet, where she was immediately as- 
saulted by Admiral Van der Does, to whom, after a two hours' 
bloody fight, she struck her flag. Don Diego, marshal of the 
camp to the famous legion of Sicily, brother of the Marquis 
of Tavera, nephew of the Viceroy of Sicily, uncle to the 
Viceroy of Naples, and numbering as many titles, dignities, 
and high affinities as could be expected of a grandee of the 
first-class, was taken, with his officers, to the Hague. " I was 
the means," said Captain Borlase, " that the best sort were 
saved, and the rest were cast overboard and slain at our 
entry. He fought with us two hours, and hurt divers of our 
men, but at last yielded." John Van der Does, his captor, 
presented the banner of the " St. Matthew," to the great 
church of Leyden, where — such was its prodigious length — 



The Spanish Armada. 201 

it hung from ceiling to floor without being entirely unrolled ; 
and there it hung, from generation to generation, a worthy- 
companion to the Spanish flags which had been left behind 
when Valdez abandoned the siege of that heroic city fifteen 
years before. 

The galleon " St. Philip," one of the four largest ships in 
the Armada, dismasted and foundering, drifted toward New- 
port, where Camp-marshal Don Francisco de Toledo hoped in 
vain for succor. La Motte made a feeble attempt at rescue, 
but some vessels from the Holland fleet, being much more 
active, seized the unfortunate galleon, and carried her into 
Flushing. The captors found forty-eight brass cannon and 
other things of value on board, but there were some casks of 
Ribadavia wine which were more fatal to her enemies than 
those pieces of artillery had proved. For while the rebels 
were refreshing themselves, after the fatigues of the capture, 
with large draughts of that famous vintage, the " St. Philip," 
which had been bore^ through and through with English 
shot, and had been rapidly filling with water, gave a sudden 
lurch, and went down in a moment, carrying with her to the 
bottom three hundred of those convivial Hollanders. 

A large Biscay galleon, too, of Recalde's squadron, much 
disabled in action, and now, like many others, unable to 
follow the Armada, was summoned by Captain Cross, of the 
" Hope/' forty-eight guns, to surrender. Although foundering, 
she resisted, and refused to strike her flag. One of her offi- 
cers attempted to haul down her colors, and was run through 
the body by the captain, who, in his turn, was struck dead 
by a brother of the officer thus slain. In the midst of this 
quarrel the ship went down with all her crew. 

Six hours and more, from ten till nearly five, the fight had 
lasted— a most cruel battle, as the Spaniards declared. 
There were men in the Armada who had served in the action 
of Lepanto, and who declared that famous encounter to have 
been far surpassed in severity and spirit by this fight off 
9* 



Pictures from English History. 



Gravelines. " Surely every man in our fleet did well," said 
Winter, " and the slaughter the enemy received was great." 
Nor would the Spaniards have escaped even worse punish- 
ment, had not, most unfortunately, the penurious policy of 
the queen's government rendered her ships useless at last, 
even in this supreme moment. They never ceased cannon- 
ading the discomfited enemy until the ammunition was ex- 
hausted. " When the cartridges were all spent," said Winter, 
" and the munitions in some vessels gone altogether, we 
ceased fighting, but followed the enemy, who still kept 
away." And the enemy — although still numerous, and seem- 
ing strong enough, if properly handled, to destroy the whole 
English fleet — fled before them. There remained more than 
fifty Spanish vessels, above six hundred tons in size, besides 
sixty hulks and other vessels of less account ; while in the 
whole English navy were but thirteen ships of or above that 
burden. " Their force is wonderful great and strong," said 
Howard, "but we pluck their feathers by little and little." 

For Medina-Sidonia had now satisfied himself that he 
should never succeed in boarding those hard-fighting and 
swift-sailing craft, while, meantime, the horrible panic of 
Sunday night and the succession of fights throughout the 
following day had completely disorganized his followers. 
Crippled, riddled, shorn, but still numerous, and by no 
means entirely vanquished, the Armada was flying with a 
gentle breeze before an enemy who, to save his existence, 
could not have fired a broadside. 

John Lothrqp Motley. 



Death and Character of Queen Elizabeth. 203 



XXXII. 

DEATH AND CHARACTER OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 

[The Earl of Essex was a young nobleman who, by his merit and ac- 
complishments, had gained very high favor with the queen ; but he after- 
ward fell into disgrace, in consequence of misconduct during an expedition 
against the revolted Irish, (1599.) Disappointed in obtaining a pardon 
from the queen, he entered into a plot to raise an insurrection against her, 
but failed in this, and, with his accomplices, was arrested and tried for 
treason, convicted, and finally beheaded, (1601.)] 

Some incidents happened which 
revived the queen's tenderness for 
Essex, and filled her with sorrow 
for the consent which she had un- 
warily given to his execution. The 
Earl of Essex, after his return 
from the unfortunate expedition 
against Cadiz, observing the in- 
crease of the queen's fond attach- 
ment toward him, took occasion to 
regret that the necessities of her 
services required him often to be absent from her person, 
and exposed him to all those ill offices which his enemies, 
more assiduous in their attendance, could employ against 
him. 

She was moved with this tender jealousy, and making him 
the present of a ring, desired him to keep that pledge of her 
affection, and assured him that into whatever disgrace he 
should fall, whatever prejudices she might be induced to 
entertain against him, yet if he sent her that ring she should 
immediately upon sight of it recall her former tenderness, 
would afford him a patient hearing, and would lend a favor- 
able ear to his apology. Essex, notwithstanding all his mis- 
fortunes, reserved this precious gift to the last extremity ; 




QUEEN ELIZABETH. 



204 Pictures from English History. 



but after his trial and condemnation he resolved to try the 
experiment, and he committed the ring to the Countess of 
Nottingham, whom he requested to deliver it to the queen. 

The countess was prevailed on by her husband, the mor- 
tal enemy of Essex, not to execute the commission ; and 
Elizabeth, who still expected that her favorite would make 
this last appeal to her tenderness, and who ascribed the neg- 
lect of it to his invincible obstinacy, was, after much delay 
and many internal combats, pushed by resentment and policy 
to sign the warrant for his execution. The Countess of 
Nottingham, falling into sickness and affected with the near 
approach of death, was seized witli remorse for her conduct, 
and, having obtained a visit from the queen, she craved her 
pardon, and revealed to her the fatal secret. 

The queen, astonished with this incident, burst into a fu- 
rious passion ; she shook the dying countess in her bed, and, 
crying to her that God might pardon her, but she never 
could, she broke from her, and thenceforth resigned herself 
over to the deepest and most incurable melancholy. She 
rejected all consolation ; she even refused food and suste- 
nance ; and, throwing herself on the floor, she remained sullen 
and immovable, feeding her thoughts on her afflictions, and 
declaring life and existence an insufferable burden to her. 
Few words she uttered, and they were all expressive of some 
inward grief which she cared not to reveal ; but sighs and 
groans were the chief vent which she gave to her despond- 
ency, and which, though they discovered her sorrows, were 
never able to ease or assuage them. 

Ten days and nights she lay upon the carpet, leaning on 
cushions which her maids brought her ; and her physicians 
could not persuade her to allow herself to be put to bed, 
much less to make trial of any remedies which they prescribed 
to her. Her anxious mind at last had so long preyed on her 
frail body that her end was visibly approaching, and the 
council, being assembled, sent the keeper, admiral, and 



Death and Character of Queen Elizabeth. 205 

secretary to know her will with regard to her successor. She 
answered, with a faint voice, that as she had held a regal 
scepter, she desired no other than a royal successor. 

Cecil requesting her to explain herself more particularly, 
she subjoined that she would have a king to succeed her ; 
and who should that be but her nearest kinsman, the King 
of Scots ? Being then advised by the Archbishop of Can- 
terbury to fix her thoughts upon God, she replied that she 
did so, nor did her mind in the least wander from him. Her 
voice soon after left her, her senses failed, she fell into a 
lethargic slumber, which contined for some hours, and she 
expired gently, without further struggle or convulsion, 
(March 24, 1603,) in the seventieth year of her age, and the 
forty-fifth of her reign. 

So dark a cloud overcast the evening of that day which 
had shone out with a mighty luster in the eyes of all Europe. 
There are few great personages in history who have been 
more exposed to the calumny of enemies and the adulation 
of friends than Queen Elizabeth ; and yet there is scarcely 
any whose reputation has been more certainly determined 
by the unanimous consent of posterity. The unusual length 
of her administration and the strong features of her character 
were able to overcome all prejudices, and obliging her de- 
tractors to abate much of their invectives, and her admirers 
somewhat of their panegyrics, have at last, in spite of polit- 
ical factions, and, what is more, of religious animosities, 
produced a uniform judgment with regard to her conduct. 

Her vigor, her constancy, her magnanimity, her penetra- 
tion, vigilance, and address are allowed to merit the highest 
praises, and appear not to have been surpassed by any per- 
son that ever filled a throne ; a conduct less rigorous, less 
imperious, more sincere, more indulgent to her people, would 
have been requisite to form a perfect character. By the 
force of her mind she controlled all her more active and 
stronger qualities, and prevented them from running to 



2o6 Pictures from English History. 

excess ; her heroism was exempt from temerity, her frugality 
from avarice, her friendship from partiality, her active tem- 
per from turbulency and vain ambition ; she guarded not 
herself with equal care or equal success from lesser infirmi- 
ties — the rivalship of beauty, the desire of admiration, the 
jealousy of love, and the sallies of anger. 

Her singular talents for government were founded equally 
on her temper and on her capacity. Endowed with a great 
command over herself, she soon obtained an uncontrolled 
ascendant over her people ; and while she merited all their 
esteem by her real virtues, she also engaged their affections 
by her pretended ones. Few sovereigns of England suc- 
ceeded to the throne in more difficult circumstances ; and 
none ever conducted the government with such uniform 
success and felicity. Though unacquainted with the prac- 
tice of toleration — the true secret for managing religious 
factions — she preserved her people, by her superior prudence, 
from those confusions in which theological controversy had 
involved all the neighboring nations ; and though her ene- 
mies were the most powerful princes of Europe, the most 
active, the most enterprising, the least scrupulous, she was 
able, by her vigor, to make deep impressions on their states; 
her own greatness meanwhile remaining untouched and 
unimpaired. Hume. 



Execution of Sir Walter Raleigh. 207 

XXXIII. 
EXECUTION OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 

[Sir Walter Raleigh, who had been a favorite of Queen Elizabeth, was 
feared and distrusted by her successoi-, James I. He was accused of trea- 
son, and, after many years' imprisonment in the Tower, was put to death, 
mainly at the instigation of the King of Spain.] 

The close of the life of Sir Walter Raleigh was as extraordi- 
nary as many parts of his varied history ; the promptitude 
and sprightliness of his genius, his carelessness of life, and 
equanimity of this great spirit in quitting the world, can only 
be paralleled by a few other heroes and sages. Raleigh was 
both! . . . 

Raleigh one morning was taken out of his bed in a fit of 
fever, and unexpectedly hurried, not to his trial, but to a 
sentence of death. The story is well-known. Yet pleading 
with " a voice grown weak by sickness and an ague he had at 
that instant on him," he used every means to avert his fate; 
he did, therefore, value the life he could so easily part with. 
His judges there, at least, respected their state criminal, and 
they addressed him in a tone far'different from that which he 
had fifteen years before listened to from Coke. Yelverton, 
the attorney-general, said, " Sir Walter Raleigh hath been as 
a star at which the world have gazed ; but stars may fall — ■ 
nay, they must fall when they trouble the sphere where they 
abide." And the lord chief-justice noticed Raleigh's great 
work : " I know that you have been valiant and wise, and I 
doubt not but you retain both these virtues, for now you shall 
have occasion to use them. Your book is an admirable 
work. I would give you counsel, but I know you can apply 
unto yourself far better than I am able to give you." But the 
judge ended by saying, " execution is granted." 

It was stifling Raleigh with roses ! The heroic sage felt as 
if listening to fame from the voice of Death. He declared 



2o8 Pictures from English History. 

that now, being old, sickly, and in disgrace, and certain, were 
he allowed to live, to go to it again, life was wearisome to 
him, and all he entreated was to have leave to speak freely 
at his farewell, to satisfy the world that he was ever loyal to 
the king, and a true lover of the commonwealth, for this he 
would seal with his blood. Raleigh, on his return to prison, 
while some were deploring his fate, observed, " That the 
world itself is but a larger prison out of which some are daily 
selected for execution." 

That last night of his existence was occupied by writing 
what the letter-writer calls " a remembrancer, to be left with 
his lady to acquaint the world with his sentiments, should he 
be denied their delivery from the scaffold, as he had been at 
the bar of the King's Bench." His lady visited him that 
night, and, amid her tears, acquainted him that she had 
obtained the favor of disposing of his body; to which he 
answered, smiling, *' It is well, Bess, that thou mayst dispose 
of that dead, thou hadst not always the disposing of when it 
was alive." At midnight he entreated her to leave him. It 
must have been then, that, with unshaken fortitude, Raleigh 
sat down to compose those verses on his death, which, being 
short, the most appropriate may be repeated : 

" Even such is Time, that takes on trust 
Our youth, our joys, our all we have, 

And pays us but with age and dust ; 
Who in the dark and silent grave, 

When we have wandered all our ways, 

Shuts up the story of our days." 

On the same night Raleigh wrote this distich on the candle 
burning dimly : 

" Cowards fear to die ; but courage stout, 
Rather than live in snuff, will be put out." 

Raleigh's cheerfulness was so remakable, and his fearless- 
ness of death so marked, that the Dean of Westminster, who 



Execution of Sir Walter Raleigh. 209 

attended him, at first wondering at the hero, reprehended the 
lightness of his manner, but Raleigh gave God thanks that he 
had never feared death, for it was but an opinion and an 
imagination ; and, as for the manner of death, he would 
rather die so than of a burning fever ; and that some might 
have made shows outwardly, but he felt the joy within. The 
dean says he made no more of his death than if he had been 
to take a journey. " Not," said he, " but that I am a great 
sinner, for I have been a soldier, a seaman, and a courtier." 

On the morning of his death he smoked, as usual, his fa- 
vorite tobacco, and when they brought him a cup of excellent 
sack, being asked how he liked it, Raleigh answered, "As the 
fellow that, drinking of St. Giles' bowl as he went to Tyburn, 
said, ' That it was a good drink if a man might tarry by it.' " 
The day before, in passing from Westminster Hall to the 
gate-house, his eye had caught Sir Hugh Beeston in the 
throng, and, calling on him, Raleigh requested that he would 
see him die to-morrow. Sir Hugh, to secure himself a seat 
on the scaffold, had provided himself with a letter to the 
sheriff, which was not read at the time, and Sir Walter found 
his friend thrust by, lamenting that he could not get there. 
" Farewell ! " exclaimed Raleigh. " I know not what shift 
you will make, but I am sure to have a place." 

In going from the prison to the scaffold, among others who 
were pressing hard to see him, one old man, whose head was 
bald, came very forward, insomuch that Raleigh noticed him 
and asked " Whether he would have aught of him ? " The 
old man answered, " Nothing but to see him, and to pray to 
God for him." Raleigh replied, " I thank thee, good friend, 
and I am sorry I have no better thing to return thee for thy 
good-will." Observing his bald head, he continued, " but 
take this night-cap " — which was a very rich wrought one that 
he wore — " for thou hast more need of it now than I." 

His dress, as was usual with him, was elegant, if not rich, 
Oldys describes it, but mentions that " he had a wrought 



2IO Pictures from English History. ' 

night- cap under his hat ; this we have otherwise disposed of; 
he wore a ruff-band, a black wrought velvet night-gown over 
a hare-colored satin doublet, and a black wrought waistcoat, 
black cut taffety breeches, and ash-colored silk stockings. 
He ascended the scaffold with the same cheerfulness as he 
had passed to it, and, observing the lords seated at a dis- 
tance, some at windows, he requested they would approach 
him, as he wished that they should all witness what he had 
to say. The request was complied with by several. When 
he finished he requested Lord Arundel that the king would 
not suffer any libels to defame him after death. "And nov/ 
I have a long journey to go, and must take my leave." 

" He embraced all the lords and other friends with such 
courtly compliments, as if he had met them at some feast," 
says a letter-writer. Having taken off his gown he called to 
the headsman to show him the ax, v/hich not being instantly 
done, he repeated, "I prithee let me see it; dost thou think 
that I am afraid of it .'' " He passed the edge lightly over his 
finger, and, smiling, observed to the sheriff, "This is a sharp 
medicine, but a sound cure for all diseases," and kissing it 
laid it down. Another writer has, " This is that, that will 
cure all sorrows." After this he went to three several cor- 
ners of the scaffold, and, kneeling down, desired all the people 
to pray for him, and recited a long prayer to himself. When 
he began to fit himself for the block, he first laid himself 
down to try how the block fitted him ; after rising up, the 
executioner kneeled down to ask his forgiveness, which Ra- 
leigh with an embrace gave, but entreated him not to strike 
until he should give a token by lifting up his hand, ''''And 
then fear not, but strike home ! " When he laid his head down 
to receive the stroke, the executioner desired him to lay his 
face toward the east, " It was no great matter which way a 
man's head stood, so that the heart lay right," said Raleigh, 
but these were not his last words. He was once more to 
speak in this world with the same intrepidity he had lived in 



Execution of Sir Walter Raleigh. 2x1 

it, for, having lain for some minutes on the block in prayer, 
he gave the signal ; but the executioner, either unmindful or 
in fear, failed to strike, and Raleigh, after once or twice 
putting forth his hands, was compelled to ask him, " Why- 
dost thou not strike ? Strike, man ! " In two blows he was 
beheaded ; but from the first his body never shrunk from the 
spot by any discomposure of his posture, which, like his mind, 
was immovable. 

" In all the time he was upon the scaffold and before," says 
one of the MS. letter-writers, " there appeared not the least 
alteration in him either in his voice or countenance, but he 
seemed as free from apprehension as if he had been come 
thither rather to be a spectator than a sufferer; nay, the be- 
holders seemed much more sensible than he did, so that he 
hath purchased here in the opinion of men such honor and 
reputation, as it is thought his greatest enemies are they that 
are most sorrowful for his death, which they see is like to 
turn so much to his advantage." The people were deeply 
affected at the sight, and so much that one said that " we had 
not such another head to cut off," and another " wished the 
head and brains to be on Secretary Naunton's shoulders." 
The observer suffered for this. He was a wealthy citizen and 
great newsmonger, and one who haunted Paul's Walk. Com- 
plaint was made, and the citizen was summoned to the privy 
council. He pleaded that he meant no disrespect to Mr. 
Secretary, but only spoke in reference to the old proverb that 
" Two heads are better than one." . . . 

The sunshine of his (Raleigh's) days was in the reign of 
Elizabeth. From a boy always dreaming of romantic con- 
quests — for he was born in an age of heroism — and formed 
by nature for the chivalric gallantry of the court of a maiden 
queen, from the moment when he, with such infinite art, cast 
his rich mantle over the miry spot, his life was a progress of 
glory. All about Raleigh was as splendid as the dress he 
wore. His female sovereign, whose eyes loved to dwell on 



Pictures from English History. 



men who might have been fit subjects for the " Faerie Queen" 
of Spenser, penurious of reward, only recompensed her fa- 
vorites by suffering them to make their own fortunes on 
sea and land; and Elizabeth listened to the glovving projects 
of her hero, indulging that spirit which would have conquered 
the world to have laid the toy at the feet of the sovereign. 

This man, this extraordinary being, who was prodigal of his 
life and fortune on the Spanish Main, in the idleness of peace 
could equally direct his invention to supply the domestic 
wants of every-day life in his project of "An office for ad- 
dress." Nothing was too high for his ambition nor too hum- 
ble for his genius. Pre-eminent as a military and a naval 
commander, as a statesman and a student, Raleigh was as 
intent on forming the character of Prince Henry as that prince 
was studious of molding his own aspiring qualities by the 
genius of the friend whom he contemplated. Yet the active 
life of Raleigh is not more remarkable than his contemplative 
one. He may well rank among the founders of our literature, 
for, composing on a subject exciting little interest, his fine 
genius has sealed his unfinished volume with immortality. 
For magnificence of eloquence and massiveness of thought, 
we must still dwell on his pages. Such was the man who was 
the adored patron of Spenser, whom Ben Jonson, proud of 
calling other favorites " his sons," honored by the title of 
"his father," and who left political instructions which Milton 
deigned to edit. Isaac Disraeli. 



The Roundhead Army. 213 

XXXIV. 

THE ROUNDHEAD ARMY. 

[The corruptions of King James, and the lawlessness and bad faith of 
his son, Charles I., caused the long Parliamentary struggle, and at last 
(1642) civil war. At first the Parliamentary, or " Roundhead," cause was 
worsted by the superior soldiership of the king's " Cavaliers," but Oliver 
Cromwell's genius reversed all that.] 

Cromwell made haste to organize the whole army on the 
same principles on which he had organized his own regi- 
ment. As soon as this process was complete, the event of 
the war was decided. The Cavaliers had now to encounter 
natural courage equal to their own, enthusiasm stronger than 
their own, and discipline such as was utterly wanting to them. 
It soon became a proverb that the soldiers of Fairfax and 
Cromwell were men of a different breed from the soldiers of 
Essex. At Naseby took place the first great encounter be- 
tween the Royalists and the remodeled army of the Houses. 
The victory of the Roundheads was complete and decisive. 
It was followed by other triumphs in rapid succession. In 
a few months the authority of the Parliament was fully es- 
tablished over the whole kingdom. Charles fled to the 
Scots, and was by them, in a manner which did not much 
exalt their national character, delivered up to his English 
subjects. . . . Thirteen years followed, during which En- 
gland was, under various names and forms, really governed 
by the sword. Never before that time or since that time was 
the civil power in our country subjected to military 
dictation. 

The army of the Long Parliament was raised for home 
service. The pay of the private soldier was much above 
the wages earned by the great body of the people ; and, if 
he distinguished himself by intelligence and courage, he 
might hope to attain high commands. The ranks were ac- 



214 Pictures from English History. 

cordingly composed of persons superior in station and edu- 
cation to the multitude. These persons, sober, moral, dili- 
gent, and accustomed to reflect, had been induced to take up 
arras, not by the pressure of want, not by the love of novelty 
and license, not by the arts of recruiting officers, but by 
religious and political zeal, mingled with the desire of dis- 
tinction and promotion. The boast of the soldiers, as we 
find it recorded in their solemn resolutions, was, that they 
had not been forced into the service, nor had enlisted chiefly 
for the sake of lucre ; that they were no janizaries, but free- 
born Englishmen, who had, of their own accord, put their 
lives in jeopardy for the liberties and religion of England, 
and whose right and duty it was to watch over the welfare of 
the nation which they had saved. 

A force thus composed might, without injury to its effi- 
ciency, be indulged in some liberties which, if allowed to any 
other troops, would have proved subversive of all discipline. 
In general, soldiers who should form themselves into polit- 
ical clubs, elect delegates, and pass resolutions on high ques- 
tions of state would soon break loose from all control, would 
cease to form an army, and would become the worst and 
most dangerous of mobs. Nor would it be safe, in our time, 
to tolerate in any regiment religious meetings, at which a 
corporal versed in Scripture should lead the devotions of his 
less-gifted colonel and admonish a backsliding major. But 
such was the intelligence, the gravity, and the self-command 
of the warriors v/hom Cromwell had trained, that in their 
camp a political organization and a religious organization 
could exist without destroying military organization. The 
same men who, off duty, were noted as demagogues and 
field-preachers, were distinguished by steadiness, by the 
spirit of order, and by prompt obedience on watch, on drill, 
and on the field of battle. 

In war this strange force was irresistible. The stubborn 
courage characteristic of the English people was, by the sys- 



The Roundhead Army, 215 

tem of Cromwell, at once regulated and stimulated. Other 
leaders have maintained order as strict ; other leaders have 
inspired their followers with a zeal as ardent ; but in his 
camp alone the most rigid discipline was found in company 
with the fiercest enthusiasm. His troops moved to victory 
with the precision of machines, while burning with the wild- 
est fanaticism of crusaders. From the time when the army 
was remodeled to the time when it was disbanded, it never 
found, either in the British islands or on the Continent, an 
enemy who could stand its onset. In England, Scotland, 
Ireland, Flanders, the Puritan warriors, often surrounded by 
difficulties, sometiyies contending against threefold odds, 
not only never failed to conquer, but never failed to destroy 
and break in pieces whatever force was opposed to them. 
They at length came to regard the day of battle as a day of 
certain triumph, and marched against the most renowned 
battalions of Europe with disdainful confidence. Turenne 
was startled by the shout of stern exultation with which his 
English allies advanced to the combat, and expressed the 
delight of a true soldier when he learned that it was ever the 
fashion of Cromwell's pikemen to rejoice greatly when they 
beheld the enemy; and the banished Cavaliers felt an emo- 
tion of national pride when they saw a brigade of their 
countrymen, outnumbered by foes and abandoned by allies, 
drive before it in headlong rout the finest infantry of Spain, 
and force a passage into a counterscarp which had just been 
pronounced impregnable by the ablest of the marshals of 
France. 

But that which chiefly distinguished the army of Cromwell 
from other armies was the austere morality and the fear of 
God which pervaded all ranks. Ir is acknowledged by the 
most zealous Royalists that, in that singular camp, no oath 
was heard, no drunkenness or gambling was seen, and that, 
during the long dominion of the soldiery, the property of 
the peaceable citizen and the honor of woman were held 



2i6 Pictures from English History, 

sacred. If outrages were committed, they were outrages of 
a very different kind from those of which a victorious army 
is generally guilty. No servant-girl complained of the rough 
gallantry of the red-coats ; not an ounce of plate was taken 
from the shops of the goldsmiths ; but a Pelagian sermon, or 
a window on which the Virgin and Child were painted, pro- 
duced in the Puritan ranks an excitement which it required 
the utmost exertions of the officers to quell. One of Crom- 
well's chief difficulties was to restrain his pikemen and 
dragoons from invading by main force the pulpits of minis- 
ters whose discourses, to use the language of that time, were 
not savory ; and too many of our cathedrals still bear the 
marks of the hatred with which those stern spirits regarded 
every vestige of popery. Macaulay. 



XXXV. 

DISPERSION OF THE RUMP PARLIAMENT. 

[After Charles had been executed and the Pi-esbyterian members of Parlia- 
ment had been expelled by Colonel Pride, (" Pride's Purge,") tlie remainder, 
("Rump Parliament,") under Cromwell and the army, governed Eng'and. 
In 1C53 Cromwell and the generals of tlie army having presented a re- 
quest to Parliament to disband, the latter set about passing an act making 
the presentation of such petitions high treason, whereupon Cromwell 
acted promptly and summarily.] 

My lord-general, accordingly, is in his reception-room this 
morning, [April 20, 1653,] "in plain black clothes and gray 
worsted stockings " — he, with many officers ; but few mem- 
bers have yet come, though punctual Bulstrode and certain 
others are there. Some waiting there is; some impatience 
that the members would come. The members do not come ; 
instead of members, comes a notice that they are busy get- 
ting on with their bill in the House, hurrying it double-quick 




Execution of King Charles. 



Dispersion of the Rump Parliament, 217 

through all the stages. Possible ? New message, that it will 
be law in a little while, if no interposition takes place ! Bul- 
strode hastens off to the House ; my lord-general, at first 
incredulous, does now also hasten off — nay, orders that a 
company of musketeers of his own regiment attend him. 
Hastens off with a very high expression of countenance, I 
think — saying or feeling : " Who would have believed it of 
them ! It is not honest ; yea, it is contrary to common hon- 
esty ! " My lord-general, the big hour is come ! 

Young Colonel Sidney, the celebrated Algernon, sat in 
the House this morning — a House of some fifty-three. Al- 
gernon has left distinct note of the affair; less distinct we 
have from Bulstrode, who was also there, who seems in some 
points to be even willfully wrong. Solid Ludlow was far off 
in Ireland, but gathered many details in after years, and 
faithfully wrote them down, in the unappeasable indignation 
of his heart. Combining these three originals, we have, after 
various perusals and collations and considerations, obtained 
the following authentic, moderately-conceivable account : 

The Parliament sitting as usual, and being in debate upon 
the bill with the amendments, which it was thought would 
have been passed that day, the Lord-General Cromwell came 
into the House, clad in plain black clothes and gray worsted 
stockings, and sat down, as he used to do, in an ordinary 
place. For some time he listen^ to this interesting debate 
on the bill ; beckoning once to Harrison, who came over to 
him, and answered dubitatingly. Whereupon the lord-gen- 
eral sat still for about a quarter of an hour longer. But now 
the question being to be put, " That this bill do now pass," 
he beckons again to Harrison, says, " This is the time ; I 
must do it ! " — and so rose up, put off his hat, and spake. 

At the first, and for a good while, he spake to the com- 
mendation of the Parliament for their pains and care of the 
public good ; but afterward he changed his style, told them 
of their injustice, delays of justice, self-interest, and other 
10 



2i8 Pictures from English History. 

faults, rising higher and higher, into a very aggravated style 
indeed. An honorable member, Sir Peter Wentworth by 
name, not known to my readers, and by me better known 
than trusted, rises to order, as we phrase it, says, " It is a 
strange language, this ; unusual within the walls of Parliament, 
this ! And from a trusted servant, too ; and one whom we 
nave so highly honored ; and one — " 

" Come, come ! " exclaims my lord-general in a very high 
key, " we have had enough of this " — and in fact my lord- 
general, now blazing all up into clear conflagration, exclaims, 
" I will put an end to your prating," and steps forth into the 
floor of the House, and "clapping on his hat," and occasion- 
ally "stamping the floor with his feet," begins a discourse 
which no man can report ! He says — Heavens ! he is 
heard saying : " It is not fit that you should sit here any 
longer ! You have sat here too long for any good you 
have been doing lately. You shall now give place to bet- 
ter men ! Call them in ! " adds he briefly to Harrison, in 
word of command ; and some twenty or thirty grim mus- 
keteers enter, with bullets in their snaphances, [muskets,] 
grimly prompt for orders, and stand in some attitude of 
carry-arms there. Veteran men ; men of might and men of 
war, their faces are as the faces of lions, and their feet are 
as swift as the roes upon the mountains ; not beautiful to 
honorable gentlemen at this moment ! 

" You call yourselves a Parliament," continues my lord- 
general in clear blaze of conflagration ; " You are no Par- 
liament ; I say you are no Parliament ! Some of you are 
drunkards," and his eye flashes on poor Mr. Chaloner, an 
ofiicial man of some value, addicted to the bottle ; " some 
of you are — " and he glares into Harry Marten, and the 
poor Sir Peter who rose to order, lewd livers both, "living 
in open contempt of God's commandments; following your 
own greedy appetites, and the devil's commandments." 
" Corrupt unjust persons," and here I think he glanced " at 



Dispersion of the Rump Parliament. 219 

Sir Bulstrode Whitlocke, one of the commissioners of the 
great seal, giving him and others very sharp language, though 
he named them not : " ** Corrupt, unjust persons ; scandal- 
ous to the profession of the Gospel : how can you be a Par- 
liament for God's people ? Depart, I say, and let us have 
done with you. In the name of God — go ! " 

The House is, of course, all on its feet — uncertain almost 
whether not on its head : such a scene as was never seen 
before in any House of Commons. History reports with a 
shudder that my lord-general, lifting the sacred mace itself, 
said, " What shall we do with this bauble ? Take it away ! " 
and gave it to a musketeer. And now — " Fetch him down ! " 
says he to Harrison, flashing on the speaker. Speaker 
Lenthall, more an ancient Roman than any thing else, de- 
clares he will not come till forced. " Sir," said Harrison, 
*' I will lend you a hand ; " on which Speaker Lenthall came 
down and gloomily vanished. They all vanished ; flooding 
gloomily, clamorously out to their ulterior businesses and 
respective places of abode. The Long Parliament is 
dissolved ! 

" It's you that have forced me to this," exclaims my lord- 
general. " I have sought the Lord night and day that he 
would rather slay me than put me upon the doing of this 
work." At their going out some say the lord-general said 
to young Sir Harry Vane, calling him by his name, " That he 
might have prevented this ; but that he was a juggler, and 
had not common honesty." " O, Sir Harry Vane, thou with 
thy subtle casuistries and abstruse hair-splittings, thou art 
other than a good one, I think ! The Lord deliver me from 
thee, Sir Harry Vane ! " All being gone out, the door of 
the House was locked, and the key with the mace, as I heard, 
was carried away by Colonel Otley — and it is all over, and 
the unspeakable catastrophe has come and remains. 

Such was the destructive wrath of my Lord-General Crom- 
well against the nominal Rump Parliament of England — 



220 Pictures from English History. 

wrath which innumerable mortals since have accounted ex- 
tremely diabolic ; which some now begin to account partly- 
divine. Divine or diabolic, it is an indisputable fact, left 
for the commentaries of men. The Rump Parliament has 
gone its ways ; and truly, except it be in their own, I know 
not in what eyes are tears at their departure. They went 
very softly, softly as a dream, say all witnesses. " We did 
not hear a dog bark at their going!" asserts my lord- 
general elsewhere. 

It is said my lord-general did not, on his entrance into 
the House, contemplate quite as a certainty this strong 
measure ; but it came upon him like an irresistible impulse, 
or inspiration, as he heard their parliamentary eloquence 
proceed. " Perceiving the Spirit of God so strong upon me, 
I would no longer consult flesh and blood." He has done 
it, at all events, and is responsible for the results it may 
have — a responsibility which he, as well as most of us, knows 
to be awful — but he fancies it was in answer to the English 
nation and to the Maker of the English nation and of him ; 
and he will do the best he may with it. 

Thomas Carlyle. 

[The following portrait of Cromwell, drawn by the hand of his admirer, 
Carlyle, is too graphic to be omitted.] 

A rather likely figure, I think, stands some five feet ten 
or more ; a man of strong solid stature, and dignified, now 
partly military, carriage. The expression of him, valor and 
devout intelligence — energy and delicacy on a basis of sim- 
plicity. Fifty-four years old gone April last; ruddy fair 
complexion, bronzed by toil and age ; light brown hair and 
mustache, all getting streaked with gray. A figure of suf- 
ficient impressiveness — not lovely to the man-milliner species, 
nor pretending to be so. Massive stature, big massive head, 
of somewhat leonine aspect, evident work-shop and store- 
house of a vast treasury of natural parts. Wart above the 



Dispersion of the Rump Parliament. 221 

right eyebrow ; nose of considerable blunt aquiline propor- 
tions ; strict yet copious lips, full of all tremulous sensibili- 
ties, and also, if need were, of all fierceness and rigors ; deep, 
loving eyes, call them grave, call them stern, looking from 
under those craggy brows as if in life-long sorrow, and yet! 
not thinking it sorrow, thinking it only labor and endeavor — 
on the whole, a right noble lion-face and hero-face, and, to 
me, royal enough. 



XXXVI. 

THE PLAGUE IN LONDON. 

fUpon Cromwell's death a state of anarchy ensued, which was terminated 
by the peaceful restoration of Charles II. During his reign many calami- 
ties of misgovernment, oppression, war, and plague beset England — the 
Great Plague in London being one. The history of this fearful event was 
written by Daniel De Foe. Sir Walter Scott remarked, that "had he not 
been the author of Robinson Crusoe,' De Foe would have deserved im- 
mortality for the genius which he has displayed in this work." The fol- 
lowing extracts from it will serve to give some idea of the work as well as 
of the terrible event which it describes.] 

In the first place, a blazing star or comet appeared for several 
months before the plague, as there did the year after, a little 
before the great fire; the old women and the weak-minded 
portion of the other sex, whom I could almost call old women 
too, remarked — especially afterward, though not till both 
those judgments were over — that those two comets passed 
directly over the city, and that so very near the houses, that 
it was plain they imported something peculiar to the city 
alone. . . . Some were so enthusiastically bold, as to run 
about the streets with their oral predictions, pretending they 
were sent to preach to the city ; and one, in particular, who 
like Jonah to Nineveh, cried in the streets: " Yet forty days, 



Pictures from English History. 



and London shall be destroyed." I will not be positive 
whether he said, "Yet forty days," or, "Yet a few days." 
Another ran about naked, except a pair of drawers about his 
waist, crying day and night. As a man that Josephus men- 
tions, who cried, "Woe to Jerusalem!" a little before the 
destruction of that city ; so this poor naked creature cried, 
" O, the great and the dreadful God ! " and said no more, but 
repeated these words continually, with a voice and counte- 
nance full of horror, a swift pace ; and nobody could ever 
find him to stop, or rest, or take any sustenance, at least, that 
ever I could hear of. I met this poor creature several times 
in the streets, and would have spoken to him, but he would 
not enter into conversation with me, or any one else, but held 
on his dismal cries continually. These things terrified the 
people to the last degree. 

I had in my family only an ancient woman, that managed 
the house, a maid-servant, two apprentices, and myself; and 
the plague beginning to increase about us, I had many sad 
thoughts about what course I should take, and how I should 
act. The many dismal objects which happened every-where, 
as I went about the streets, had filled my mind with a great 
deal of horror, for fear of the distemper itself, which was in- 
deed very horrible itself, and in some more than others. The 
swellings which were generally in the neck or groin, when 
they grew hard and would not break, grew so painful that it 
was equal to the most exquisite torture; and some, not able 
to bear the torment, threw themselves out at windows, or shot 
themselves, or otherwise made themselves away ; and I saw 
several dismal objects of this kind. Others, unable to con- 
tain themselves, vented their pain by incessant roarings, and 
such lamentable cries were to be heard, as they walked along 
the streets, that would pierce the very heart to think of, 
especially when it was considered that the same dreadful 
scourge might be expected every moment to seize upon our- 
selves. 



The Plague in London. 223 

It was now the beginning of August, and the plague grew 
very violent and terrible in the place where I lived; and Dr. 
Heath coming to visit me, and finding that I ventured so 
often out in the streets, earnestly persuaded me to lock my- 
self up and my family, and not to suffer any of us to go out 
of doors; to keep all our windows fast, shutters and curtains 
close, and never to open them ; but first to make a very 
strong smoke in the room, when the window or door was to 
be opened, with rosin and pitch, brimstone and gunpowder, 
and the like, and we did this for some time ; but as I had not 
laid in a store of provision for such a retreat, it was impos- 
sible that we could keep within doors entirely. And here I 
must observe again, that this necessity of going out of our 
houses to buy provisions was, in a great measure, the ruin of 
the whole city ; for the people catched the distemper, on 
these occasions, one of another, and even the provisions 
themselves were often tainted, at least I had great reason to 
believe so. However, the poor people could not lay up pro- 
visions, and there was a necessity that they must go to market 
to buy, and others to send servants or their children ; and, as 
this was a necessity which renewed itself daily, it brought 
abundance of unsound people to the markets, and a great 
many that went thither sound brought death home with 
them. It is true people used all possible precaution ; when 
any one bought a joint of meat in the market, they would not 
take it out of the butcher's hand, but took it off the hooks 
themselves. On the other hand, the butcher would not touch 
the money, but have it put into a pot full of vinegar, which 
he kept for that purpose. The buyers carried always small 
money to make up any odd sum, that they might take no 
change. They carried bottles for scent and perfumes in 
their hands, and all the means that could be used were em- 
ployed ; but, then, the poor could not do even these things, 
and they went at all hazards. 

Innumerable dismal stories we heard every day on this 



224 Pictures from English History. 

very account. Sometimes a man or woman dropped down 
dead in the very market; for many people that had the 
plague upon them knew nothing of it till the inward gangrene 
had aifected their vitals, and they died in a few moments ; 
this caused that many died frequently in that manner in the 
street suddenly without any warning. Others, perhaps, had 
time to go to the next bulk or stall, or to any door or porch, 
and just sit down and die, as I have said before. These ob- 
jects were so frequent in the streets, that, when the plague 
grew to be very raging on one side, there was scarce any 
passing by the streets but that several dead bodies would be 
lying here and there upon the ground ; and, in those cases, 
the corpse was always left till the officers had notice to come 
and take them away, or till night, when the bearers attending 
the dead-cart would take them up and carry them away. 
Nor did those undaunted creatures, who performed these 
offices, fail to search their pockets, and sometimes strip oif 
their clothes if they were well dressed, as sometimes they 
were, and carry off what they could get. . . . 

Much about the same time I walked out into the "fields 
toward Bow ; for I had a great mind to see how things were 
managed on the river, and among the ships; and as I had 
some concern in shipping, I had a notion that it had been 
one of the best ways of securing one's self from the infection 
to have retired into a ship ; and musing how to satisfy my 
curiosity in that point, I turned away over the fields, from 
Bow to Bromley, and down to Blackwall, to. the stairs that 
are there for landing or taking water. Here I saw a poor 
man walking on the bank or sea-wall, as they call it, by him- 
self. I walked awhile also about, seeing the houses all shut 
up; at last I fell into some talk, at a distance, with this poor 
man. First I asked him how people did thereabouts. 
" Alas ! sir," says he, " almost desolate, all dead or sick ; 
here are very few families in this part, or in that village," 
pointing at Poplar, " where half of them are dead already. 



The Plague in London. 225 

and the rest sick," Then he, pointing to one house, " They 
are all dead," said he, *' and the house stands open, nobody- 
dares go into it. A poor thief," says he, " ventured in to 
steal something, but he paid dear for his theft, for he was 
carried to the church-yard, too, last night." Then he pointed 
to several other houses. " There," says he, " they are all 
dead, the man and his wife and five children. There," says 
he, "they are shut up, you see a watchman at the door; and 
so of other houses." "Why," says I, " what do you do here 
alone.'" "Why," says he, "I am a poor desolate man; it 
hath pleased God I am not yet visited, though my family is, 
and one of my children dead." " How do you mean, then," 
said I, "that you are not visited.?" "Why," says he, " that 
is my house," pointing to a very little, low-boarded house, 
" and there my poor wife and two children live," said he, " if 
they may be said to live ; for my wife and one of the children 
are visited, but I dare not come at them." And with that 
word I saw the tears run very plentifully down his face ; and 
so they did down mine, too, I assure you. 

"Well," says I, "honest man, how do you live, then ? and 
how are you kept from the dreadful calamity that is now 
upon us all.? " "Why, sir," says he, " I am a waterman, and 
there is my boat," says he, " and the boat serves me for a 
house; I work in it in the day, and I sleep in it in the night, 
and what I get I lay it down upon that stone," says he, 
showing me a broad stone on the other side of the street, a 
good way from his house ; " and then," says he, " I halloo, 
and call to them till I make them hear, and they come and 
fetch it." " Well, friend," says I, " but how can you get 
money as a waterman ? Does any body go by water these 
times?" "Yes, sir," says he, "in the way I am employed, 
there does. Do you see there," says he, " five ships lie at 
anchor," pointing down the river, a good way below the 
town ; " and do you see," says he, " eight or ten ships lie at 
the Chain there, and at anchor yonder ? " — pointing above to 
10* 



226 Pictures from English History. 

the town. " All those ships have families on board, of their 
merchants and owners, and such like, who have locked them- 
selves up, and live on board, close shut in, for fear of the 
infection ; and I tend on them to fetch things for them, 
carry letters, and do what is absolutely necessary, that they 
may not be obliged to come on shore ; and every night I 
fasten my boat on board one of the ship's boats, and there I 
sleep by myself, and, blessed be God ! I am preserved hither- 
to. .. . I seldom come on shore here ; and I came only 
now to call my wife, and hear how my little family do, and 
give them a little money which I received last night. ... I 
have called, and my wife has answered that she cannot come 
out yet, but in half an hour she hopes to come, and I am 
waiting for her. Poor woman ! " says he, " she is brought 
sadly down ; she has had a swelling, and it is broke, and I 
hope she will recover, but I fear the child will die ; but it is 
the Lord ! — " Here he stopped and wept very much. 

"Well, honest friend," said I, "thou hast a sure comforter, 
if thou hast brought thyself to be resigned to the will of God ; 
he is dealing with us all in judgment." " O, sir," says he, 
" it is infinite mercy if any of us are spared ; and who am I to 
repine ? " " Sayest thou so," said I ; " and how much less is 
my faith than thine .'' " And here my heart smote me, sug- 
gesting how much better this poor man's foundation was, on 
which he stayed in the danger, than mine; that he had no- 
where to fly ; that he had a family to bind him to attendance, 
which I had not ; and mine was mere presumption, his a true 
dependence, and a courage resting on God ; and yet, that he 
used all possible caution for his safety. I turned a little way 
from the man while these thoughts engaged me : for, indeed, 
I could no more refrain from tears than he. 

Daniel De Foe. 



The Deposition of James II. 



227 



XXXVII. 

THE DEPOSITION OF JAMES II. 

[The treacherous and tyrannical conduct and the reactionary religious 
policy of James II. at length drove England into revolt, and some of the 
pnncipal nobles invited William, prince of Orange, and his wife, Mary, 
daughter of James II., to the throne jointly. William gathered a fleet and 
army in Holland, and in 1688 set sail for the invasion of England. The 
subjoined account is by an eye-witness.] 

On the ist of November, O. S., 
we sailed out with the evening 
tide ; but made little way that 
night, that so our fleet might come 
out, and move in order. We tried 
next day till noon if it was possi- 
ble to sail northward ; but the 
wind was so strong and full in the 
east that we could not move that 
way. About noon the signal was 
given to steer westward. This 
wind not only diverted us from that unhappy course, but it 
kept the English fleet in the river ; so that it was not possi- 
ble for them to come out, though they were come down as 
far as to the Gunfleet. By this means we had. the sea open 
to us, with a fair wind and a safe navigation. On the 3d we 
passed between Dover and Calais, and before night came in 
sight of the Isle of Wight. The next day being the day in 
which the prince was both born and married, he fancied if 
he could land that day it would look auspicious to the army, 
and animate the soldiers. But we all, who considered that 
the day following being gunpowder-treason day, our landing 
that day might have a good eff"ect on the minds of the En- 
glish nation, were better pleased to see that we could land 
no sooner. Torbay was thought the best place for our great 




JAMES II. 



Pictures from English History. 



fleet to lie in ; and it was resolved to land the army where it 
could be best done near it, reckoning that being at such a 
distance from London we could provide ourselves with 
horses and put every thing in order before the king could 
march his army toward us, and that we should lie some time 
at Exeter for the refreshing our men. I was in the ship^ 
with the prince's other domestics, that went in the van of 
the whole fleet. At noon on the 4th Russel came on board 
us with the best of all the English pilots that they had 
brought over. He gave him the steering of the ship, and 
ordered him to be sure to sail so that next morning we 
should be short of Dartmouth ; for it was intended that 
some of the ships should land there, and that the rest should 
sail into Torbay. The pilot thought he could not be mis- 
taken in measuring our course, and believed that he certainly 
kept within orders, till the morning showed us we were past 
Torbay and Dartmouth. But while Russel was in no small 
disorder, after he saw the pilot's error, (upon which he bade 
me go to my prayers, for all was lost,) and as he was ordering 
the boat to be cleared to go aboard the prince, on a sudden, 
to all our wonder, it calmed a little. And then the wind 
turned into the south, and a soft and happy gale of wind 
carried in the whole fleet in four hours' time into Torbay. 
Immediately as many landed as conveniently could. As 
soon as the prince and Marshal Schomberg got to shore they 
were furnished with such horses as the village of Broxholme 
could afford, and rode up to view the grounds, which they 
found as convenient as could be imagined for the foot in that 
season. It was not a cold night, otherwise the soldiers, who 
had been kept warm aboard, might have suffered much by it. 
As soon as I landed I made what haste I could to the place 
where the prince was, who took me heartily by the hand and 
asked me if I would not now believe predestination. I told 
him I would never forget that providence of God which had 
appeared so signally on this occasion. He was cheerfuller 



The Deposition of James II. 229 

than ordinary. Yet he returned soon to his usual gravity. 
The prince sent for all the fishermen of the place and asked 
them which was the properest place for landing his horse, 
which all apprehended would be a tedious business, and 
might hold some days. But next morning he was showed a 
place, a quarter of a mile below the village, where the ships 
could be brought very near the land, against the shore, and 
the horses would not be put to swim above twenty yards. 
This proved to be so happy for our landing, though we came 
to it by mere accident, that, if we had ordered the whole 
island round to be sounded we could not have found a prop- 
erer place for it. There was a dead calm all that morning, 
and in three hours' time ail our horses were landed, with as 
much baggage as was necessary till we got to Exeter. The 
artillery and heavy baggage were left aboard, and ordered to 
Topsham, the sea-port to Exeter. All that belonged to us 
was so soon and so happily landed that by the next day at 
noon we were in full march, and marched four miles that 
night. We had from thence twenty miles to Exeter, and we 
resolved to make haste thither. 

But, as we were now happily landed and marching, we saw 
new and unthought-of characters of a favorable providence 
of God watching over us. We had no sooner got thus dis- 
engaged from our fleet than a new and great storm blew from 
the west, from which our fleet, being covered by the land, 
could receive no prejudice ; but the king's fleet had got out 
as the wind calmed, and in pursuit of us was come as far 
as the Isle of Wight when this contrary wind turned upon 
them. They tried what they could to pursue us ; but they 
were so shattered by some days of this storm that they were 
forced to go into Portsmouth, and were no more fit for serv- 
ice that year. This was a greater happiness than we were 
then aware of; for the Lord Dartmouth assured me some 
time after, that, whatever stories we had heard and believed, 
either of officers or seamen, he was confident they would all 



230 Pictures from English History. 

have fought very heartily ; but now, by the immediate hand 
of Heaven, we were masters of the sea without a blow. I 
never found a disposition to superstition in my temper ; I 
was rather inclined to be philosophical upon all occasions ; 
yet I must confess that this strange ordering of the winds 
and seasons, just to change as our affairs required it, could 
not but make deep impressions on me as well as on all that 
observed it. The prince made haste to Exeter, where he 
stayed ten days, both for refreshing his troops and for giv- 
ing the country time to show their affections. . . . 

The king wanted support, for his spirits sunk extremely. 
His blood was in such fermentation that he was bleeding 
much at the nose, which returned oft upon him every day. 
He sent many spies over to us. They all took his money 
and came and joined themselves to the prince, none of them 
returning to him. So that he had no intelligence brought 
him of what the prince was doing, but what common reports 
brought him, which magnified our numbers, and made him 
think we were coming near him while we were still at Exeter. 
He heard that the city of London was very unquiet. News 
was brought him that the Earls of Devonshire and Danby, 
and the Lord Lumley, were drawing great bodies together, 
and that both York and Newcastle had declared for the 
prince. The Lord Delamere had raised a regiment in 
Cheshire. And the body of the nation did every-where dis- 
cover their inclinations for the prince so evidently, that the 
king saw he had nothing to trust to but his army. And the 
ill disposition among them was so apparent that he reckoned 
he could not depend on them ; so that he lost both heart 
and head at once. But that which gave him the last and 
most confounding stroke was that the Lord Churchill and 
the Duke of Grafton left him, and came and joined the 
prince at Axminster, twenty miles on that side of Exeter. 
After this he could not know on whom he could depend. 

These things put the king in an unexpressible confusion. 



The Deposition of James II. 231 

He saw himself now forsaken, not only by those whom he 
had trusted and favored most, but even by his own children. 
And the army was in such distraction that there was not 
any one body that seemed entirely united and firm to him. 
A foolish ballad was made at that time, treating the papists, 
and chiefly the Irish, in a very ridiculous manner, which had 
a burden, said to be Irish words, lero, lero, lilibulero, that 
made an impression on the army that cannot be well imag- 
ined by those who saw it not. The whole army, and at last 
all people both in city and country, were singing it perpett 
ually. And perhaps never had so slight a thing so great an 
effect. 

The queen took up a sudden resolution of going to France 
with the child. The midwife, together with all who were 
assisting at the birth, were also carried over, or so disposed 
of that it could never be learned what became of them after- 
ward. The queen prevailed with the king, not only to con- 
sent to this, but to promise to go quickly after her. He was 
only to stay a day or two after her, in hope that the shadow 
of authority that was still left in him might keep things so 
quiet that she might have an undisturbed passage. So she 
went to Portsmouth, and from thence, in a man-of-war, she 
went over to France, the king resolving to follow her in 
disguise. Care was also taken to send all the priests away. 
. . . The king stayed long enough to get the prince's answer; 
and when he had read it he said he did not expect so good 
terms. He ordered the lord chancellor to come to him next 
morning. But he had called secretly for the great seal, and 
the next morning, being the loth of December, about three 
in the morning, he went away in disguise with Sir Edward 
Hales, whose servant he seemed to be. They passed the 
river and flung the great seal into it, which was some months 
after found by a fisherman near Fox-Hall. The king went 
down to a miserable fisher-boat that Hales had provided for 
carrying them over to France. 



232 Pictures from English History. 

Thus a great king, who had yet a good army and a strong 
fleet, did choose rather to abandon all than either to expose 
himself to any danger with that part of the army that was 
still firm to him, or to stay and see the issue of a Parliament. 
Some put this mean and unaccountable resolution on a want 
of courage ; others thought it was the effect of an ill con- 
science and of some black thing under which he could not 
now support himself. And they who censured it the most 
moderately said that it showed that his priests had more re- 
gard to themselves than to him, and that he considered their 
interests more than his own ; and that he chose rather to 
wander abroad with them, and try what he could do by a 
French force to subdue his people, than to stay at home and 
be shut up within the bounds of law, and be brought under 
an incapacity of doing more mischief, which they saw was 
necessary to quiet those fears and jealousies for which his 
bad government had given so much occasion. It seemed 
very unaccountable, since he was resolved to go, that he did 
not choose rather to go in one of his yachts or frigates than 
to expose himself in so dangerous and ignominious a man- 
ner. It was not possible to put a good construction on any 
part of the dishonorable scene which he then acted. With 
this his reign ended ; for this was a plain deserting his 
people and the exposing the nation to the pillage of an army, 
which he had ordered the Earl of Feversham to disband. 
And the doing this without paying them was the letting so 
many armed men loose upon the nation, who might have 
done much mischief if the execution of those orders that he 
left behind him had not been stopped. 

As soon as it was known at London that the king was 
gone the 'prentices and the rabble, who had been a little 
quieted when they saw a treaty on foot between the king 
and the prince, now broke out again upon all suspected 
houses where they believed there were either priests or pa- 
pists. They made great havoc of many places, not sparing 



The Deposition of James II. 233 

the houses of embassadors. But none were killed, no houses 
burnt, nor were any robberies committed. Never was so 
much fury seen under so much management. Jeffreys, find- 
ing the king was gone, saw what reason he had to look to 
himself, and, apprehending that he was now exposed to the 
rage of the people whom he had provoked with so particular 
a brutality, he had disguised himself to make his escape. 
But he fell into the hands of some who knew him. He was 
insulted by them with as much scorn and rudeness as they 
could invent. And, after many hours tossing him about, he 
was carried to the lord mayor, whom they charged to com- 
mit him to the Tower, which the Lord Lucas had seized, and 
in it had declared for the prince. The lord mayor was so 
struck with the terror of this rude populace, and with the 
disgrace of a man who had made all people tremble before 
him, that he fell into fits upon it, of which he died soon 
after. Bishop Burnet. 



234 



Pictures from English History. 



XXXVIII. 

THE SOUTH SEA BUBBLE 

[During the reigns of William and Mary, of Anne, and of George I., 
England made great progress in foreign conquest and territorial aggran- 
dizement, with a corresponding expansion of commercial enterprise and 
domestic prosperity. Dazzling visions of glory to the nation and wealth to 
eveiy body took possession ; speculations of the most extraordinary char- 
acter were entered into, culminating in the "South Sea Bubble," in 
1720.] 

As soon as the South Sea Bill 
had received the royal assent in 
April, the directors proposed a 
subscription of one million, which 
was so eagerly taken that the 
sum subscribed exceeded two. 
A second subscription was quick- 
ly opened, and no less quickly 
filled. The most exaggerated 
hopes were raised and the most 
groundless rumors set afloat; 
such as that Stanhope had re- 
ceived overtures at Paris to exchange Gibralter and Port 
Mahon for some places in Peru ! The South Sea trade was 
again vaunted as the best avenue to wealth. Objections 
were unheard or overruled, and the friends of Lord Oxford 
might exult to see his visions adopted by his opponents. In 
August the stocks which had been 130 in the winter, rose to 
1,000 ! Such general infatuation would have been happy for 
the directors had they not themselves partaken of it. They 
opened a third and even a fourth subscription, larger than 
the former; they passed a resolution that from Christmas 
next their yearly dividend should not be less than fifty per 
cent. ; they assumed an arrogant and overbearing tone. 




GEORGE I. 



The South Sea Bubble. 235 

" We have made them kings," says a member of Parliament, 
"and they deal with every body as such." 

But the public delusion was not confined to the South Sea 
scheme ; a thousand other mushroom projects sprung up in 
that teeming soil. This evil had been foreseen, and, as they 
hoped, guarded against by the ministers. On the very day 
Parliament rose they had issued a royal proclamation against 
" such mischievous and dangerous undertaking, especially 
the presuming to act as a corporate body, or raising stocks 
or shares without legal authority." But how difficult to en- 
force that prohibition in a free country ! How impossible, 
when almost immediately on the king's departure, the heir- 
apparent was induced to publish his name as a governor of 
the Welsh Copper Company ! In vain did the speaker and 
Walpole endeavor to dissuade him, representing that he 
would be attacked in Parliament, and that " the Prince of 
Wales' bubble " would be cried in Change Alley. It was 
not till the company was threatened with prosecution and 
exposed to risk, that his royal highness prudently withdrew, 
with a profit of ;^4o,ooo. 

Such an example was tempting to follow; the Duke of 
Chandos and the Earl of Westmoreland appeared likewise at 
the head of bubbles, and the people at large soon discovered 
that to speculate is easier than to work. Change Alley be- 
came a new edition of the Rue Quincampoix,* The crowds 
were so great within doors that tables with clerks were set in 
the streets. In this motley throng were blended all ranks, 
all professions, all parties, churchmen and dissenters, whigs 
and tories, country gentlemen and brokers. An eager strife 
of tongues prevailed in this second Babel ; new reports, new 
subscriptions, new transfers, fled from mouth to mouth, and 
the voice of ladies — for even many ladies had turned gam- 
blers — rose loud and incessant, above the general din. A 
foreigner would no longer have complained of the English 
* Where John Law's Mississippi scheme was caiTied on. 



2;^6 Pictures from English History. 

taciturnity. Some of the companies hawked about were for 
the most extravagant objects. " Wrecks to be fished for on 
the Irish coast ; insurances of horses and other cattle (two 
millions ;) insurances of losses by servants ; to make salt 
water fresh, etc., etc. ; for building of ships against pirates ; 
for making of oil from sunflower-seeds; for improving of 
malt liquors ; for recovering of seamen's wages ; for extract- 
ing of silver from lead; for the transmuting of quicksilver 
into a malleable and fine metal ; for making of iron with pit 
coal ; for importing a number of large jackasses from Spain ; 
for trading in human hair ; for fattening of hogs; for a wheel 
for perpetual motion." But the most strange of all, perhaps, 
was, " For an undertaking which shall in due time be re- 
vealed ! " Each subscriber was to pay down two guineas, 
and hereafter to receive a share of one hundred with a dis- 
closure of the object; and so tempting was the oifer that 
2,000 of these subscriptions were paid the same morning, 
with which the projector set off in the afternoon. Amid 
these real follies, I can scarcely see any difference or exag- 
geration in a mock proposal which was circulated at the 
time in ridicule of the rest : " For the invention of melting 
down sawdust and chips, and casting them into clean deal 
boards without cracks or flaws," 

Such extravagances might well provoke laughter ; but, un- 
happily, though the farce came first, there was a tragedy be- 
hind. When the sums intended to be raised had grown 
altogether, it is said, to the enormous amount of three hun- 
dred millions, the first check to the public infatuation was 
given by the same body whence it had first sprung. The 
South Sea directors, craving for fresh gains, and jealous of 
other speculators, obtained an order from the lords-justices, 
and writs of scire facias against several of the new bubble 
companies. These fell, but in falling drew down the whole 
fabric with them. As soon as distrust was excited all men 
became anxious to convert their bonds into money, and then 



The South Sea Bubble. 237 

at once appeared the fearful disproportion between the paper 
promises and the coin to pay. Early in September the South 
Sea stock began to decline ; its fall became more rapid from 
day to day, and in less than a month it sunk below 300. In 
vain was money drained from all the distant counties and 
brought up to London. In vain were the goldsmiths applied 
to, with whom large quantities of stock were pawned. Most 
of them broke or fled. In vain was Walpole summoned from 
Houghton to use his influence with the bank ; for that body, 
though it entered into negotiations, would not proceed in 
them, and refused to ratify a contract drawn up and pro- 
posed by the minister. Once lost, the public confidence 
could not be restored ; the decline progressively continued, 
and the news of the crash in France* completed ours. 
Thousands of families were reduced to beggary ; thousands 
more were threatened with the same fate, and the large for- 
tunes made, or supposed to be made, by a few individuals 
served only by comparison to aggravate the common ruin. 
Those who had sported most proudly on the surface of the 
swollen waters were left stranded and bare by the ebbing of 
that mighty tide. The resentment and rage were universal. 
"I perceive," says a contemporary, "the very name of a 
South Sea man grows abominable in every county." And a 
cry was raised, not merely against the ministry, but against 
the royal family, against the king himself. Most of the 
statesmen of the time had more or less dabbled in those 
funds. Lord Sunderland lost considerably ; Walpole, with 
more sagacity, was a great gainer; the Duke of Portland, 
Lord Lonsdale, and Lord Irwin were reduced to solicit West 
India governments, and it is mentioned, as an exception, 
that "neither Lords Stanhope, Argyle, nor Roxburgh have 
been in the stocks." Townshend, I believe, might also be 
excepted. But the public indignation was pointed chiefly 
against Sir John Blunt, as projector, and against Sunderland 
* The failure of John Law's scheme. 



238 Pictures from English History. 

and Aislabie, as heads of the treasury, and it was suspected, 
how truly will afterward appear, that the king's mistresses, 
and several of his ministers, both English and German, had 
received large sums in stock to recommend the project. In 
short, as England had never yet undergone such great dis- 
appointment and confusion, so it never had so loudly called 
for confiscation and blood. . . . 

On the 8th of December Parliament met in a mood like 
the people's, terror-stricken, bewildered, and thirsting for 
vengeance, ... It was in the midst of this general storm 
that Walpole, on the 21st December, brought forward his 
remedy. A short Christmas recess had no effect in allaying 
animosities. Immediately afterward a bill was brought in 
by Sir Joseph Jekyll, restraining the South Sea directors 
from going out of the kingdom, obliging them to deliver 
upon oath the strict value of their estates, and offering re- 
wards to discoverers or informers against them. The di- 
rectors petitioned to be heard by counsel in their defense, 
the common right, they said, of British subjects — as if a 
South Sea director was still entitled to justice! Their re- 
quest was rejected, and the bill was hurried through both 
houses. A secret committee of inquiry was next appointed 
by the Commons, consisting chiefly of the most vehement 
opponents of the South Sea scheme, such as Molesworth, 
Jekyll, and Brodrick, the latter of whom they selected for 
their chairman. 

This committee proceeded to examine Mr. Knight, the 
cashier of the company and the agent of its most secret 
transactions. But this person, dreading the consequences, 
soon after his first examination, escaped to France, connived 
at, as was suspected, by some persons in power, and carrying 
with him the register of the company. His escape was re- 
ported to the House on the 23rd of January, when a strange 
scene of violence ensued. The Commons ordered the doors 
to be locked, and the keys to be laid on the table. General 



The South Sea Bubble. 239 

Ross then stated that " the committee, of which he was a 
member, had discovered a train of the deepest villainy and 
fraud that hell ever contrived to ruin a nation." No proof 
beyond this vague assertion was required, four of the direct- 
ors, members of Parliament, were immediately expelled the 
house, taken into custody, and their papers seized. 

Meanwhile the lords had been examining other directors 
at their bar, and on the 24th they also ordered five to be tak- 
en into custody. Some of the answers indicated that large 
sums in South Sea stock had been given to procure the pass- 
ing of the act last year ; upon which Lord Stanhope immedi- 
ately rose, and expressing his indignation at such practices, 
moved a resolution, that any transfer of stock, without a 
valuable consideration, for the use of any person in the ad- 
ministration, during the pendency of the South Sea Act, was 
a notorious and dangerous corruption. He was seconded by 
Lord Townshend, and the resolution passed unanimously. 
On the 8th of February the House, continuing their exami- 
nations, had before them Sir John Blunt, who, however, re- 
fused to answer, on the ground that he had already given his 
evidence before the secret committee of the Commons. How 
to proceed in this matter was a serious difficulty, and a debate 
which arose upon it soon branched into more general topics. 

Aislabie, finding it impossible to stem the popular torrent, 
resigned his office, which was conferred upon Walpole. But 
this resignation was far from contenting the public or abating 
their eagerness for the report of the secret committee. That 
committee certainly displayed no want of activity ; it sat 
every day from nine in the morning to eleven at night, being 
resolved, as the chairman expressed it, " to show how the 
horse was curried." At length, on the i6th of February, 
their first report was presented to the House. It appeared 
that they had experienced obstacles from the escape of 
Knight, from the taking away of some books, and from the 
defacing of others ; but that the cross-examination of the 



240 Pictures from English History. 

directors and accountants had supplied the deficiency. A 
scene of infamous corruption was then disclosed. It was 
found that last year above half a million of fictitious South 
Sea stock had been created, in order that the profit upon 
that sum might be disposed of by the directors to facilitate 
the passing of the bill. The Duchess of Kendal had 
;^io,ooo ; another of the king's favorites, Madame de Platen, 
with laudable impartiality, had the same sum; nor were the 
two nieces of the latter forgotten. Against these ladies no 
steps were, nor, perhaps, could be, taken. But those persons 
in the administration accused of similar peculation were 
Secretary Craggs, his father, the postmaster-general, Mr. 
Charles Stanhope, secretary of the treasury, Mr. Aislabie, and 
the Earl of Sutherland ; and the report added the various 
evidence in the case of each. 

On the very day when this report was read in the Com- 
mons died one of the statesmen accused in it, James Craggs, 
secretary of state. His illness was the small-pox, then very 
prevalent, joined, no doubt, to anxiety of mind. But the fate 
of his father was still more lamentable. A few weeks after- 
ward, when the accusation was pressing upon him, he swal- 
lowed poison and expired. 

The next case was Aislabie's. It was so flagrant that 
scarce any member ventured to defend him, and none to di- 
vide the House ; he was unanimously expelled, and sent to 
the Tower, and afterward great part of his property seized. 
So great was the rejoicing on Aislabie's conviction that there 
were bonfires that night in the city. 

Lord Sunderland now remained. He was charged with 
having received, through Knight, ^^50,000 stock without pay- 
ment, and the public outcry against him was fierce and loud, 
but, as I believe, unfounded. The charge rested entirely on 
hearsay testimony, on words which Sir John Blunt said that 
Knight had said to him ; there was collateral evidence to 
shake it, and the character of Blunt himself was that of a 



The South Sea Bubble. 241 

dishonest and now ruined and desperate man. It is also 
remarkable that Sunderland had in fact lost considerably by 
the South Sea scheme, and that one of his bitterest enemies 
then accused him, not of having confederated with the 
directors, but of being their dupe and victim. So strong 
seemed these considerations, that a large majority (233 
against 172) declared the minister innocent. But, notwith- 
standing this acquittal, the popular ferment was too strong 
for Sunderland to continue at the head of the treasury ; he 
resigned, and was succeeded by Walpole. His influence at 
court, however, still continued, and he obtained the appoint- 
ment of Lord Carteret in the room of Secretary Craggs. 

Lord Mahon. 



XXXIX. 

THE GREAT COMMONER DURING TWO REIGNS. 

[The reigns of George II. and George III. were characterized by foreign 
wars. The most brilliant of England's successes in war and diplomacy 
were won under the ministry of William Pitt, known in history as "The 
Great Commoner."] 

Pitt desired power — and he desired it, we really believe, 
from high and generous motives. He was, in the strict 
sense of the word, a patriot. He had no general liberality, 
none of that philanthropy which the great French writers 
of his time preached to all the nations of Europe. He loved 
England as an Athenian loved the City of the Violet Crown 
— as a Roman loved the " maxima rejourn Roma" He saw 
his country insulted and defeated. He saw the national 
spirit sinking. Yet he knew what the resources of the em- 
pire, vigorously employed, could effect ; and he felt that he 
was the man to employ them vigorously. " My lord," he 
said to the Duke of Devonshire, " I am sure that I can save 

this country, and that nobody else can." 
11 



242 Pictures from English History. 

Desiring, then, lo be in power, and feeling that his abili- 
ties and the public confidence were not alone sufficient to 
keep him in power against the wishes of the court and of 
the aristocracy, he began to think of a coalition with 
Newcastle. 

Newcastle was equally disposed to a reconciliation. He, 
too, had profited by his recent experience. He had found 
that the court and the aristocracy, though powerful, were not 
every thing in the state. A strong oligarchical connection, a 
great borough interest, ample patronage, and secret-service- 
money might, in quiet times, be all that a minister needed ; 
but it was unsafe to trust wholly to such support in time of 
war, of discontent, and of agitation. The composition of 
the House of Commons was not wholly aristocratical ; and, 
whatever be the composition of large deliberative assemblies, 
their spirit is always in some degree popular. Where there 
are free debates eloquence must have admirers and reason 
must make converts. Where there is a free press the gov- 
ernors must live in constant awe of the opinions of the 
governed. 

Thus these two men, so unlike in character, so lately mor- 
tal enemies, were necessary to each other. Newcastle had 
fallen in November for want of that public confidence which 
Pitt possessed, and of that parliamentary support which 
Pitt was better qualified than any man of his time to give. 
Pitt had fallen in April for want of that species of influence 
which Newcastle had spent his whole life in acquiring and 
hoarding. Neither of them had power enough to support 
himself. Each of them had power enough to overturn the 
other. Their union would be irresistible. Neither the king 
nor any party in the state would be able to stand against 
them. 

Under these circumstances Pitt was not disposed to pro- 
ceed to extremities against his predecessors in office. Some- 
thing, however, was due to consistency; and something was 



The Great Commoner During Two Reigns. 243 

necessary for the preservation of his popularity. He did 
little ; but that little he did in such a manner as to pro- 
duce great effect. He came down to the House in all the 
pomp of gout, his legs swathed in flannels, his arm dangling 
in a sling. He kept his seat through several fatiguing days, 
in spite of pain and languor. He uttered a few sharp and 
vehement sentences, but during the greater part of the dis- 
cussion his language was unusually gentle. 

During eleven weeks England remained without a minis- 
try, and in the meantime Parliament was sitting and a war 
was raging. The prejudices of the king, the haughtiness of 
Pitt, the jealousy, levity, and treachery of Newcastle, delayed 
the settlement. Pitt knew the duke too well to trust him 
without security. The duke loved power too much to be 
inclined to give security. While they were haggling the 
king was in vain attempting to produce a final rupture be- 
tween them, or to form a government without them. At one 
time he applied to Lord Waldegrave, an honest and sensible 
man, but unpracticed in affairs. Lord Waldegrave had the 
courage to accept the treasury, but soon found that no ad- 
ministration formed by him had the smallest chance of 
standing a single week. 

At length the king's pertinacity yielded to the necessity of 
the case. After exclaiming with great bitterness, and with 
some justice, against the whigs, who ought, he said, to be 
ashamed to talk about liberty while they submitted to be the 
footmen of the Duke of Newcastle, he notified submission. 
The influence of the Prince of Wales prevailed on Pitt to 
abate a little, and but a little, of his high demands ; and all 
at once, out of the chaos in which parties had for some time 
been rising, falling, meeting, separating, arose a government 
as strong at home as that of Pelham, as successful abroad 
as that of Godolphin. 

The first measures of the new administration were char- 
acterized rather by vigor than by judgment. Expeditions 



244 Pictures from English History. 

were sent against different parts of the French coast with 
little success. The small island of Aix was taken, Roche- 
fort threatened, a few ships burned in the harbor of 
St. Maloes, and a few guns and mortars brought home as 
trophies from the fortifications of Cherbourg. But before 
long conquests of a very different kind filled the kingdom 
with pride and rejoicing. A succession of victories undoubt- 
edly brilliant, and, as it was thought, not barren, raised to 
the highest point the fame of the minister to whom the con- 
duct of the war had been intrusted. In July, 1758, Louis- 
bourg fell. The whole island of Cape Breton was reduced ; 
the fleet to which the court of Versailles had confided the 
defense of French America was destroyed. The captured 
standards were borne in triumph from Kensington Palace to 
the city, and were suspended in St. Paul's Church amid the 
roar of guns and kettle-drums and the shouts of an immense 
multitude. Addresses of congratulation came in from all 
the great towns of England. Parliament met only to decree 
thanks and monuments, and to bestow, without one murmur, 
supplies more than double of those which had been given 
during the war of the Grand Alliance. 

The year 1759 opened with the conquest of Goree. Next 
fell Guadaloupe, then Ticonderoga, then Niagara. The Tou- 
lon squadron was completely defeated by Boscawen off Cape 
Lagos. But the greatest exploit of the year was the achieve- 
ment of Wolfe on the heights of Abraham. The news of his 
glorious death and of the fall of Quebec reached London in 
the very week in which the Houses met. All was joy and 
triumph ; envy and faction were forced to join in the general 
applause. Whigs and tories vied with each other in extolling 
the genius and energy of Pitt. His colleagues were never 
talked of or thought of. The House of Commons, the na- 
tion, the colonies, our allies, our enemies, had their eyes fixed 
on him alone. 

Scarcely had Parliament voted a monument to Wolfe when 



The Great Commoner During Two Reigns. 245 

another great event called for fresh rejoicings. The Brest 
fleet, under the command of Conflans, had put out to sea. 
It was overtaken by an English squadron under Hawke. 
Conflans attempted to take shelter close under the French 
coast. The shore was rocky — the night was black — the 
wind was furious — the Bay of Biscay ran high. But Pitt 
had infused into every branch of the service a spirit which 
had long been unknown. No British seaman was disposed 
to err on the same side with Byng. The pilot told Hawke 
that the attack could not be made without the greatest dan- 
ger. "You have done your duty in remonstrating," an- 
swered Hawke ; " I will answer for every thing. I com- 
mand you to lay me alongside the French admiral." The 
result was a complete victory. 

The year 1760 came; and still triumph followed triumph. 
Montreal was taken ; the whole province of Canada was 
subjugated ; the French fleets underwent a succession of 
disasters in the seas of Europe and America. 

In the meantime conquests equaling in rapidity, and far 
surpassing in magnitude, those of Cortes and Pizarro, had 
been achieved in the East. In the space of three years the 
English had founded a mighty empire. The French had 
been defeated in every part of India. Chandernagore had 
surrendered to Clive, Pondicherry to Coote. Throughout 
Bengal, Bahar, Orissa, and the Carnatic, the authority of the 
East India Company was more absolute than that of Acbar 
or Aurungzebe had ever been. 

On the continent of Europe the odds were against En- 
gland. We had but one important ally, the King of Prussia, 
and he was attacked, not only by France, but also by Rus- 
sia and Austria. Yet even on the Continent the energy of 
Pitt triumphed over all difficulties. Vehemently as he had 
condemned the practice of subsidizing foreign princes, he 
now carried that practice further than Carteret himself would 
have ventured to do. The active and able sovereign of 



246 Pictures from English History. 

Prussia received such pecuniary assistance as enabled him to 
maintain the conflict on equal terms against his powerful 
enemies. On no subject had Pitt ever spoken with so much 
eloquence and ardor as on the mischiefs of the Hanoverian 
connection. He now declared, not without much show of 
reason, that it would be unworthy of the English people to 
suffer their king to be deprived of his electoral dominions in 
an English quarrel. He assured his countrymen that they 
should be no losers, and that he would conquer America for 
them in Germany. By taking this line he conciliated the 
king, and lost no part of his influence with the nation. In 
Parliament, such was the ascendency which his eloquence, 
his success, his high situation, his pride, and his intrepidity 
had obtained for him, that he took liberties with the House 
of which there had been no example, and which have never 
since been imitated. No orator could there venture to re- 
proach him with inconsistency. One unfortunate man made 
the attempt, and was so much disconcerted by the scornful 
demeanor of the minister that he stammered, stopped, and 
sat down. Even the old tory country gentlemen, to whom 
the very name of Hanover had been odious, gave their hearty 
ayes to subsidy after subsidy. In a lively contemporary 
satire — much more lively, indeed, than delicate — this remark- 
able conversion is not unhappily described : 

" No more they make a fiddle-faddle 
About a Hessian horse or saddle. 
No more of continental measui'es ; 
No more of wasting British treasures. 
Ten millions and a vote of credit — 
'Tis right. He can't be wrong who did it." 

The success of Pitt's continental measures was such as 
might have been expected from their vigor. When he came 
into power Hanover was in imminent danger, and before he 
had been in office three months the whole electorate was in 



The Great Commoner During Two Reigns. 247 

the hands of France*. But the face of affairs was speedily 
changed. The invaders were driven out. An army, partly 
English, partly Hanoverian, partly composed of soldiers fur- 
nished by the petty princes of Germany, was placed under 
the command of Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick. The 
French were beaten in 1758 at Crevelt. In 1759 they re- 
ceived a still more complete and humiliating defeat at Minden. 

In the meantime the nation exhibited all the signs of 
wealth and prosperity. The merchants of London- had 
never been more thriving. The importance of several great 
commercial and manufacturing towns — of Glasgow in par- 
ticular — dates from this period. The fine inscription on the 
monument of Lord Chatham in Guildhall records the gen- 
eral opinion of the citizens of London, that under his ad- 
ministration commerce had been " united with and made to 
flourish by war." It must be owned that these signs of 
prosperity were in some degree delusive. 

Even as a war minister, Pitt is scarcely entitled to all the 
praise which his contemporaries lavished on him. We, per- 
haps from ignorance, cannot discern in his arrangements any 
appearance of profound or dexterous combination. Several 
of his expeditions, particularly those which were sent to the 
coast of France, were at once costly and absurd. Our Indian 
conquests, though they add to the splendor of the period dur- 
ing which he was at the head of affairs, were not planned by 
him. He had undoubtedly great energy, great determination, 
great means at his command. His temper was enterprising; 
and, situated as he was, he had only to follow his temper. 
The wealth of a rich nation, the valor of a brave nation, were 
ready to support him in every attempt. 

In one respect, however, he deserved all the praise that he 
has ever received. The success of our arms was perhaps 
owing less to the skill of his dispositions than to the national 
resources and the national spirit. But that the national spirit 
rose to the emergency — that the national resources were 



Pictures from English History, 



contributed with unexampled cheerfulness — this was un- 
doubtedly his work. The ardor of his spirit had set the 
whole kingdom on fire. It inflamed every soldier who 
dragged the cannon up the heights of Quebec, and every 
sailor who boarded the French ships among the rocks of 
Brittany. The minister, before he had been long in office, had 
imparted to the commanders whom he employed his own im- 
petuous, adventurous, and defying character. They, like 
him, were disposed to risk every thing — to play double or 
quits to the last — to think nothing done while any thing re- 
mained — to fail rather than not to attempt. For the errors 
of rashness there might be indulgence. For over-caution, 
for faults like those of Lord George Sackville, there was no 
mercy. In other times, and against other enemies, this 
mode of warfare might have failed. But the state of the 
French government and of the French nation gave every 
advantage to Pitt. The fops and intriguers of Versailles 
were appalled and bewildered by his vigor. A panic spread 
through all ranks of society. Our enemies soon considered 
it a settled thing that they were always to be beaten. Thus 
victory begat victory ; till at last, wherever the forces of the 
two nations met, they met with disdainful confidence on the 
one side and a craven fear on the other. 

The situation which Pitt occupied at the close of the reign 
of George II. was the most enviable ever occupied by any 
public man in English history. He had conciliated the 
king ; he domineered over the House of Commons ; he was 
adored by the people; he. was admired by all Europe. He 
was -the first Englishman of his time, and he had made En- 
gland the first country in the world. The " Great Com- 
moner " — the name by which he was often designated — 
might look down with scorn on coronets and garters. The 
nation was drunk with joy and pride. The Parliament was 
as quiet as it had been under Pelham. The old party dis- 
tinctions were almost effaced ; nor was their place yet sup- 



The Great Commoner During Two Reigns. 249 

plied by distinctions of a still more important kind. A 
new generation of country squires and rectors had arisen 
who knew not the Stuarts. The Dissenters were tolerated ; 
the Catholics not cruelly persecuted. The Church was 
drowsy and indulgent. The great civil and religious con- 
flict which began at the Reformation seemed to have ter- 
minated in universal repose. Whigs and Tories, Churchmen 
and Puritans, spoke with equal reverence of the constitution, 
and with equal enthusiasm of the talents, virtues, and serv- 
ices of the ministers. 

A few years sufficed to change the whole aspect of affairs, 
A nation convulsed by faction, a throne assailed by the 
fiercest invective, a House of Commons hated and despised 
by the nation, England set against Scotland, Britain set 
against America, a rival Legislature sitting beyond the At- 
lantic, English blood shed by English bayonets, our armies 
capitulating, our conquests wrested from us, our enemies 
hastening to take vengeance for past humiliation, our flag 
scarcely able to maintain itself in our own seas — such was 
the spectacle which Pitt lived to see. But the history of this 
great revolution requires far more space than we can at 
present bestow. We leave the " Great Commoner " in the 
zenith of his glory. Lord Macaulay. 

11* 



25° 



Pictures from English History. 



XL. 

GEORGE THE THIRD. 

[George III. died in 1820, after a reign of sixty years — the longest in 
English history. No period, perhaps, in the world's history has been more 
crowded with momentous events. The following sketch is taken from one 
of the lectures delivered by Thackeray on the " Four Georges."] 

We have to glance over sixty 
years in as many minutes. To 
read the mere catalogue of char- 
acters who figured during that 
long period would occupy our al- 
lotted time, and we should have 
all text and no sermon. England 
has to undergo the revolt of the 
American colonies ; to submit to 
defeat and separation ; to shake 
under the volcano of the French 
Revolution; to grapple and fight for the life with her 
gigantic enemy, Napoleon ; to gasp and rally after that tre- 
mendous struggle. 

The old society, with its courtly splendors, has to pass 
away ; generations of statesmen to rise and disappear ; Pitt 
to follow Chatham to the tomb ; the memory of Rodney and 
Wolfe to be superseded by Nelson's and Wellington's glory ; 
the old poets who unite us to Queen Anne's time to sink into 
their graves; Johnson to die, and Scott and Byron to arise; 
Garrick to delight the world with his dazzling dramatic 
genius, and Kean to leap on the stage and take possession of 
the astonished theater. Steam has to be invented; kings to 
be beheaded, banished, deposed, restored ; Napoleon to be 
but an episode, and George III. is to be alive through all 
these varied changes, to accompany his people through all 




GEORGE III. 



George the Third. 



these revolutions of thought, government, society — to survive 
out of the old world into ours. . . . 

His mother's bigotry and hatred George inherited with 
the courageous obstinacy of his own race ; but he was a firm 
believer where his fathers had been freethinkers, and a true 
and fond supporter of the Church of which he was the titular 
defender. Like other dull men, the king was all his life sus- 
picious of superior people. He did not like Fox ; he did not 
like Reynolds ; he did not like Chatham, Burke ; he was testy 
at the idea of all innovations, and suspicious of all innovators. 
He loved mediocrities — Benjamin West was his favorite 
painter; Beattie was his poet. The king lamented, not with- 
out pathos, in his after-life, that his education had been neg- 
lected. He was a dull lad brought up by narrow-minded 
people. The cleverest tutors in the world could have done 
little, probably, to expand that snjall intellect, though they 
might have improved his tastes, and taught his perceptions 
some generosity. . . . 

George married the Princess Charlotte of Mecklenburg 
Strelitz, and for years they led the happiest, simplest lives, 
sure, ever led by married couple. It is said the king winced 
when he first saw his homely little bride ; but, however that 
may be, he was a true and faithful husband to her, as she was 
a faithful and loving wife. They had the simplest pleasures 
— the very mildest and simplest — little country dances, to 
which a dozen couples were invited, and where the honest 
king would stand up and dance for three hours at a time to 
one tune ; after which delicious excitement they would go to 
bed without any supper, (the court people grumbling sadly 
at that absence of supper,) and get up quite early the next 
morning, and perhaps the next night have another dance ; or 
the queen would play on the spinnet — 'she played pretty well, 
Haydn said ; or the king would read to her a paper out of 
the " Spectator," or perhaps one of Ogden's sermons. O, 
Arcadia ! what a life it must have been ! . . . 



252 Pictures from English History. 

The theater was always his delight. His bishops and 
clergy used to attend it, thinking it no shame to appear where 
that good man was seen. He is said not to have cared for 
Shakespeare, or tragedy, much ; farces and pantomimes were 
his joy ; and especially when the clown swallowed a carrot or 
a string of sausages, he would laugh so outrageously that the 
lovely princess by his side would have to say, " My gracious, 
monarch, do compose yourself." But he continued to laugh, 
and at the very smallest farces, as long as his poor wits were 
left him. 

" George, be a king ! " were the words which his mother 
was forever croaking in the ears of her son ; and a king the 
simple, stubborn, affectionate, bigoted man tried to be. He 
did his best' — ^he walked according to his lights ; what virtue 
he knew he tried to practice ; what knowledge he could 
master he strove to acquire. . . . But, as one thinks of an 
office almost divine performed by any mortal man; of any 
single being pretending to control the thoughts, to direct the 
faith, to order the implicit obedience of brother millions ; to 
compel them into war at his offense or quarrel ; to command, 
" In this way you shall trade ; in this way you shall think ; 
these neighbors shall be your allies, whom you shall help — 
these others your enemies, whom you shall slay at my orders ; 
in this way you shall worship God " — who can wonder that 
when such a man as George took such an office on himself, 
punishment and humiliation should fall upon people and 
chief? 

Yet there is something grand about his courage. The 
battle of the king with his aristocracy remains yet to be told 
by the historian who shall view the reign of George more 
justly than the trumpery panegyrists who wrote immediately 
after his decease. It was he, with the people to back him, 
that made the war with America ; it was he and the people 
who refused justice to the Roman Catholics ; and on both 
questions he beat the patricians. He bribed, he bullied, he 



George the Third. 253 

darkly dissembled on occasion ; he exercised a slippery perse- 
verance and a vindictive resolution, which one almost admires 
as one thinks his character over. 

His courage was never to be beat. It trampled North 
under foot ; it beat the stiff neck of the younger Pitt ; even 
his illness never conquered that indomitable spirit. As soon 
as his brain was clear it resumed the scheme only laid aside 
when his reason left him ; as soon as his hands were out of 
the strait-waistcoat, they took up the pen and the plan which 
had engaged him up to the moment of his malady. I believe 
it is by persons believing themselves in the right that nine 
tenths of the tyranny of this world has been perpetrated. 
And so with respect to old George, even Americans, whom 
he hated and who conquered him, may give him credit for 
having quite honest reasons for oppressing them. . . . 

Of little comfort were the king's sons to the king; but the 
pretty Amelia was his darling, and the little maiden, prattling 
and smiling in the fond arms of that old father, is a sweet 
image to look on. . . , The princess wrote verses herself, 
and there are some pretty plaintive lines attributed to her 
which are more touching than better poetry : 

" Unthinking, idle, wild, and young, 

I laughed, and danced, and talked, and sung ; 

And proud of health, of freedom vain, 

Dreamed not of sorrow, care, or pain ; 

Concluding, in these hours of glee. 

That all the world was made for me. 

" But when the hour of trial came, 
When sickness shook this trembling frame, 
When folly's gay pui^suits were o'er, 
And I coidd sing and dance no more — 
It then occurred how sad 'twould be 
Were this world only made for me." 

The poor soul quitted it, and, ere yet she was dead, the 
agonized father was in such a state that the officers round 



254 Pictures from English History. 

about him were obliged to set watchers over him ; and from 
November, 1810, George III. ceased to leign. All the world 
knows the story of his malady ; all history presents no sadder 
figure than that of the old man, blind and deprived of rea- 
son, wandering through the rooms of his palace, addressing 
imaginary parliaments, reviewing fancied troops, holding 
ghostly courts. I have seen his picture, as it was taken at 
this time, hanging in the apartments of his daughter, the 
Landgravine of Hesse Hombourg, amid books and Windsor 
furniture, and a hundred fond reminiscences of her English 
home. 

The poor old father is represented in a purple gown, his 
snowy beard falling over his breast — the star of his famous 
Order still shining on it. He was not only sightless — he be- 
came utterly deaf. All light, all reason, all sound of human 
voices, all the pleasures of this world of God were taken away 
from him. Some slight lucid moments he had; in one of 
which the queen, desiring to see him, entered the room, and 
found him singing a hymn and accompanying himself at the 
harpsichord. When he had finished, he knelt down and 
prayed aloud for her, and then for his family, and then for 
the nation, concluding with a prayer for himself, that it 
might please God to avert his heavy calamity from him, but 
if not, to give him resignation to submit. He then burst into 
tears, and his reason again fled. 

A¥hat preacher need moralize on this story; what words 
save the simplest are requisite to tell it ? It is too terrible 
for tears. The thought of such a misery smites me down in 
submission before the Ruler of kings and men, the Monarch 
Supreme over empires and republics, the inscrutable Dis- 
penser of life, death, happiness, victory. " O brothers ! " 1 
said to those who heard me first in America — " O brothers ! 
speaking the same dear mother tongue — O comrades ! ene- 
mies no more, let us take a mournful hand together as we 
stand by the royal corpse, and call a truce to battle ! Low 



George the Third. 255 

he lies to whom the proudest used to kneel once, and who 
was cast lower than the poorest ; dead, whom millions prayed 
for in vain. Driven off his throne, buffeted by rude hands, 
with his children in revolt, the darling of his old age killed 
before him untimely, our Lear hangs over her breathless lips 
and cries, ' Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little ! ' 

' Vex not his ghost — O, let him pass — he hates him 
That would upon the rack of this tough world 
Stretch him out longer !' 

Hush, Strife and Quarrel, over the solemn grave ! Sound, 
Trumpets, a mournful march ! Fall, Dark Curtain, upon his 
pageant, his pride, his grief, his awful tragedy! " 

William Makepeace Thackeray. 



XLL 

THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 

[Full as the long reign of George IIL was of signal events, not one 
of them had so great an influence on the history of Europe as the over- 
throw of Napoleon Bonaparte, after fifteen years of struggle, in which En- 
gland was ever the moving spirit, and generally the leading actor. This 
wonderful sketch of the closing act of the bloody drama is condensed from 
Victor Hugo's " Les Miserables."] 

If it had not rained on the night between the 17th and 
i8th of June, 1815, the future of Europe would have been 
changed : a few drops of rain, more or less, made Napoleon 
oscillate. In order to make Waterloo the end of Austerlitz, 
Providence only required a little rain, and a cloud crossing 
the sky at a season when rain was not expected was sufficient 
to overthrow an empire. The battle of Waterloo could not 
begin till half-past eleven, and that gave Blucher time to 
come up. Why .? Because the ground was moist, and it 
was necessary for it to become firmer that the artillery might 



256 Pictures from English History. 

maneuver. Napoleon was an artillery officer, and always 
showed himself one : all his battle plans are made for pro- 
jectiles. Making artillery converge on a given point was his 
key to victory. He treated the strategy of the opposing 
general as a citadel, and breached it ; he crushed the weak 
point under grape-shot, and he began and ended his battles 
with artillery. Driving in squares, pulverizing regiments, 
breaking lines, destroying and dispersing masses, all this 
must be done by striking, striking, striking incessantly, and 
he confided the task to artillery. It was a forminable 
method, and, allied to genius, rendered this gloomy pugilist 
of war invincible for fifteen years. 

On June 16, 1815, he counted the more on his artillery 
because he held the numerical superiority. Wellington had 
only one hundred and fifty-nine guns, while Napoleon had 
two hundred and forty. Had the earth been dry and the 
artillery able to move, the action would have begun at six 
A. M. It would have been won and over by two P. M., 
three hours before the Prussian interlude. 

Those who wish to form a distinct idea of the battle of 
Waterloo need only imagine a capital A laid on the ground. 
The left leg of the A is the Nivelles road, the right one the 
Genappe road, while the string of the A is the broken way 
running from Ohaine to Braine I'Alleud. The top of the A 
is Mont St. Jean, where Wellington is ; the left lower point 
is Hougomont, where Reille is with Jerome Bonaparte ; the 
right lower point is la Belle Alliance, where Napoleon is. A 
little below the point where the string of the A meets and 
cuts the right leg is La Haye Sainte ; and in the center of this 
string is the exact spot where the battle was concluded. It 
is here that the lion is placed, the involuntary symbol of the 
heroism of the old Guard. 

The triangle comprised at the top of the A between the 
two legs and the string, is the plateau of Mont St, Jean ; the 
dispute for this plateau was the whole battle. 



The Battle of Waterloo, 257 

At about four o'clock P. M. the situation of the English 
army was serious. The Prince of Orange commanded the 
center, Hill the right, and Picton the left. The Prince of 
Orange, wild and intrepid, shouted to the Dutch Belgians : 
*' Nassau Brunswick, never yield an inch ! " Hill, fearfully 
weakened, had just fallen back on Wellington, while Picton 
was dead. At the very moment when the English took from 
the French the flag of the 105th line regiment, the French 
killed General Picton with a bullet through his head. The 
battle had two bases for Wellington, Hougomont and La 
Haye Sainte. Hougomont still held out, though on fire, 
while La Haye Sainte was lost. 

Wellington, restless but impassive, was mounted, and re- 
mained for the whole day in the same attitude, a little in 
front of the old mill of Mont St. Jean, which still exists, and 
under an elm-tree, which an Englishman, an enthusiastical 
Vandal, afterward bought for two hundred francs, cut down, 
and carried away. Wellington was coldly heroic ; there was 
a shower of cannon-balls, and his aid-de-camp, Gordon, was 
killed by his side. Lord Hill, pointing to a bursting shell, 
said to him, " My lord, what are your instructions, and 
what orders do you leave us, if you are killed .'' " *' Do 
as I am doing," Wellington answered. To Clinton he 
said, laconically, "Hold out here to the last man." The 
day was evidently turning out badly, and Wellington cried 
to his old comrades of Vittoria, Talavera, and Salamanca, 
" Boys, can you think of giving way ? Remember old 
England ! " 

About four o'clock the English line fell back all at once ; 
nothing was visible on the crest of the plateau but artillery 
and sharpshooters ; the rest had disappeared. The regi- 
ments, expelled by the French shell and cannon-balls, fell 
back into the hollow, which at the present day is intersected 
by the lane that runs to the farm of Mont St. Jean. A re- 
trograde movement began ; the English front withdrew. 



258 Pictures from English History. 

Wellington was recoiling. " It is the beginning of the re- 
treat," Napoleon cried. 

Napoleon hurriedly turned and sent off a messenger at full 
speed to Paris to announce that the battle was gained. Na- 
poleon was one of those geniuses from whom thunder issues, 
and he had just found his thunder-stroke ; he gave Milhaud's 
cuirassiers orders to carry the plateau of Mont St. Jean. 
They were three thousand five hundred in number, and 
formed a front a quarter of a league in length ; they were 
gigantic men mounted on colossal horses. They formed 
twenty-six squadrons, and had behind them, as a support, 
Lefebvre Desnouette's division, composed of the one hun- 
dred and six gendarmes, the chasseurs of the Guard, eleven 
hundred and ninety-seven sabers, and the lancers of the 
Guard, eight hundred and eighty lances. They wore a hel- 
met without a plume, and a cuirasse of wrought steel, and 
were armed with pistols and a straight saber. In the morn- 
ing the whole army had admired them when they came up, 
at nine o'clock, with bugles sounding, while all the bands 
played, '"''Veillons au sainte de rEmpi7'e^'' in close column, 
with one battery on their flank, the others, in their center, 
and deployed in two ranks, and took their place in that pow- 
erful second line so skillfully formed by Napoleon, which 
having at its extreme left Kellermann's cuirassiers and on 
its extreme right Milhaud's cuirassiers, seemed to be en- 
dowed with two wings of steel. 

The aid-decamp, Bernard, carried to them the emperor's 
order. Ney drew his saber and placed himself at their head, 
and the mighty squadron started. Then a formidable spec- 
tacle was seen ; the whole of this cavalry, with raised sabers, 
and standards flying, and formed in columns of division, de- 
scended, with one movement and as one man, with the pre- 
cision of a bronze battering-ram opening a breach, the hill 
of the Belle Alliance. They entered the formidable valley in 
which so many men had already fallen, disappeared in the 



The Battle of Waterloo. 259 

smoke, and then, emerging from the gloom, reappeared on 
the other side of the valley, still in a close, compact column, 
mounting at a trot, under a tremendous canister fire, the 
frightful muddy incline of the plateau of Mont St. Jean, 
They ascended it, stern, threatening, and imperturbable ; 
between the breaks in the artillery and musketry fire the 
colossal tramp could be heard. As they formed two divis- 
ions they were in two columns. Wathier's division was on 
the right, Delord's on the left. At a distance it appeared as 
if two immense steel lizards were crawling toward the crest 
of the plateau ; they traversed the battle-field like a flash. 

Nothing like it had been seen since the capture of the great 
redoubt of the Moskova by the heavy cavalry ; Murat was 
missing, but Ney was there. It seemed as if the mass had 
become a monster, and had but one soul ; each squadron 
undulated and swelled like the rings of a polype. This 
could be seen through a vast smoke which was rent asunder 
at intervals ; it was a pell-mell of helmets, shouts, and sabers, 
a stormy bounding of horses among cannon, and a disci- 
plined and terrible array ; while above it all flashed the 
cuirasses like the scales of the dragon. Such narratives 
seemed to belong to another age ; something like this vision 
was doubtless traceable in the old Orphean epics describing 
the men-horses, the ancient hippanthropists, those Titans 
with human faces and equestrian chest, whose gallop esca- 
laded Olympus — horrible, sublime, invulnerable beings, gods 
and brutes. It was a curious numerical coincidence that 
twenty-six battalions were preparing to receive the charge 
of these twenty-six squadrons. Behind the crest of the 
plateau, in the shadow of the masked battery, thirteen En- 
glish squares, each of two battalions and formed two deep, 
with seven men in the first lines and six in the second, were 
waiting, calm, dumb, and motionless, with their muskets, for 
what was coming. They did not see the cuirassiers, and the 
cuirassiers did not see them ; they merely heard this tide of 



26o Pictures from English History. 

men ascending. They heard the swelling sound of three 
thousand horses, the alternating and symmetrical sound of 
the hoof, the clang of the cuirasses, the crash of the sabers^ 
and a species of great and formidable breathing. There 
was a long and terrible silence, and then a long file of 
raised arms, brandishing sabers, and helmets and bu- 
gles and standards, and three thousand heads with great 
mustaches, shouting, " Long live the Emperor ! " appeared 
above the crest. The whole of this cavalry debouched on 
the plateau, and it was like the commencement of an 
earthquake. 

All at once, terrible to relate, the head of the column of 
cuirassiers facing the English left reared with a fearful 
clamor. On reaching the culminating point of the crest, 
furious and eager to make their exterminating dash on the 
English squares and guns, the cuirassiers noticed between 
them and the English a trench — a grave. It was the hollow 
road of Ohain. It was a frightful moment — the ravine was 
there, unexpected, yawning, almost precipitous, 'beneath the 
horses' feet, and with a depth of twelve feet between its two 
sides. The second rank thrust the first into the abyss ; the 
horses reared, fell back, slipped with all four feet in the air, 
crushing and throwing their riders. There was no means 
of escaping ; the entire column was one huge projectile. 
The force acquired to crush the English crushed the French, 
and the inexorable ravine would not yield till it was filled up. 
Men and horses rolled into it pell-mell, crushing each other, 
and making one large charnel-house of the gulf, and when 
this grave was full of living men the rest passed over them. 
Nearly one third of Dubois's brigade rolled into this , abyss. . 
This commenced the loss of the battle, -^^''i-' ''\^^:-1-iiri'ii".''X,! ^y 

Other fatalities were yet to arise. Was it possible for ^^"^"^ 
Napoleon to win the battle ? We answer in the negative. ^' . 
Why ? On account of Wellington, on account of Blucher ? ijX^ 
No : on account of God. Bonaparte, victor at Waterloo, 



The Battle of Waterloo. 261 

did not harmonize with the law of the nineteenth century. 
It was time for this vast man to fall ; his excessive weight in 
human destiny disturbed the balance. This individual alone 
was of more account than the universal group : such ple- 
thoras of human vitality concentrated in a single head — the 
world mounting to one man's brain — would be mortal to civ- 
ilization if they endured. The moment had arrived for the 
incorruptible supreme equity to reflect, and it is probable that 
the principles and elements on which the regular gravitations of 
the moral order as of the material order depend, complained. 
Streaming blood, overcrowded grave-yards, mothers in tears, 
are formidable pleaders. When the earth is suffering from 
an excessive burden there are mysterious groans from the 
shadow which the abyss hears. Napoleon had been de- 
nounced in infinitude, and his fall was decided. Waterloo 
is not a battle, but a transformation of the universe. 

The battery was unmasked simultaneously with the ravine 
— sixty guns and thirteen squares thundered at the cui- 
rassiers at point-blank range. The intrepid General Delord 
gave a military salute to the English battery. The whole of 
the English field artillery had entered the squares at a gal- 
lop, the cuirassiers had not even a moment for reflection. 
The disaster of the hollow way had decimated but not dis- 
couraged them ; they were of that nature of men whose 
hearts grow large when their number is diminished. 
Waither's column alone suffered in the disaster ; but De- 
lord's column, which he had ordered to wheel to the left, as 
if he suspected the trap, arrived entire. The cuirassiers 
rushed at the English squares at full gallop, with hanging 
bridles, sabers in their mouths, and pistols in their hands. 
There are moments in a battle when the soul hardens a man, 
so that it changes the soldier into a statue, and all flesh be- 
comes granite. The English battalions, though fiercely as- 
sailed, did not move. Then there was a frightful scene. 
All the faces of the English squares were attacked simulta- 



262 Pictures from English History. 

neously, and a frenzied whirl surrounded them. But the 
cold infantry remained impassive ; the front rank kneeling 
received the cuirassiers on their bayonets, while the second 
fired at them ; behind the second rank the artillerymen 
loaded the guns, the front of the square opened to let an 
eruption of canister pass, and then closed again. The cui- 
raissiers responded by attempts to crush their foe ; their 
great horses reared, leaped over bayonets, and landed in the 
center of the four living walls. The cannon-balls made gaps 
in the cuirassiers, and the cuirassiers made breaches in the 
squares. Files of men disappeared, trampled down by the 
horses, and bayonets were buried in the entrails of these cen- 
taurs. Hence arose horrible wounds, such as were probably 
never seen elsewhere. The squares, where broken by the 
impetuous cavalry, contracted without yielding an inch of 
ground ; inexhaustible in canister, they produced an explo- 
sion in the midst of the assailants. The aspect of this com- 
bat was monstrous ; these squares were no longer battalions 
but craters ; these cuirassiers were no longer cavalry, but a 
tempest — each square was a volcano attacked by a storm, 
the lava combatted the lightning. 

The extreme right square, the most exposed of all, as it 
was in the air, was nearly annihilated in the first attack. It 
was formed of the 75th Highlanders ; the piper in the cen- 
ter, while his comrades were being exterminated around him, 
was seated on a drum, with his pibroch under his arm, and 
playing mountain airs. These Scotchmen died, thinking of 
Ben Lothian, as the Greeks did, remembering Argos. A 
cuirassier's saber, by cutting through the pibroch and the 
arm that held it, stopped the tune by killing the player. 

The cuirassiers, relatively few in number, and reduced by 
the catastrophe of the ravine, had against them nearly the 
whole English army ; but they multiplied themselves, and 
each man was worth ten. Some Hanoverian battalions, how- 
ever, gave way ; Wellington saw it, and thought of his cav- 



The Battle of Waterloo. 263 

airy. Had Napoleon at this moment thought of his infantry 
the battle would have been won, and this forgetfulness was 
his great and fatal fault. All at once the assailers found 
themselves assailed ; the English cavalry were on their backs, 
before them the squares, behind them Somerset with the one 
thousand four hundred Dragoon Guards. Somerset had on 
his right Dornberg with the German chevau-legers, and on 
his left Trip with the Belgian carbineers. The cuirassiers, 
attacked in the flank and in front, before and behind, by in- 
fantry and cavalry, were compelled to make a front on all 
sides. But what did they care.'' They were a whirlwind — 
their bravery became indescribable. 

In addition, they had behind them the still thundering 
battery, and it was only in such a way that these men could 
be wounded in the back. One of these cuirasses with a hole 
through the left scapula is in the Waterloo Museum. For 
such Frenchmen nothing less than such Englishmen was re- 
quired. It was no longer a melee, it was a headlong fury, a 
hurricane of flashing swords. In an instant the one thousand 
four hundred dragoons were only eight hundred; and Fuller, 
their lieutenant-colonel, was dead. Ney dashed up with 
Lefebvre Desnouette's lancers and chasseurs ; the plateau of 
Mont St. Jean was taken and retaken, and taken again. The 
cuirassiers left the cavalry to attack the infantry, or, to speak 
more correctly, all these men collared each other and did 
not lose their hold. The squares still held out after twelve 
assaults. Ney had four horses killed under him, and one 
half of the cuirassiers remained on the plateau. This strug- 
gle lasted two hours. The English army was profoundly 
shaken ; and there is no doubt that, had not the cuirassiers 
been weakened in their attack by the disaster of the hollow 
way, they would have broken through the center and decided 
the victory. This extraordinary cavalry petrified Clinton, 
who had seen Talavera and Badajoz. Wellington, three 
parts vanquished, admired heroically ; he said in a low 



264 Pictures from English History. 

voice, " Splendid ! " The cuirassiers annihilated seven 
squares out of thirteen, captured or spiked sixty guns, and 
took six English regimental flags, which three cuirassiers and 
three chasseurs of the Guard carried to the emperor before 
the farm of la Belle Alliance. 

Wellington's situation had grown worse. This strange 
battle resembled a fight between two savage wounded men 
who constantly lose their blood while continuing the strug- 
gle. Which would be the first to fall .? The combat for the 
plateau continued. Wellington felt himself giving way, and 
the crisis was close at hand. The cuirassiers had not suc- 
ceeded, in the sense that the English center had not been 
broken. Every body held the plateau, and nobody held it; 
but, in the end, the greater portion remained in the hands 
of the English. Wellington had the village and the plain ; 
Ney, only the crest and the slope. Both sides seemed to 
have taken root in this mournful soil. But the weakness of 
the English seemed irremediable, for the hemorrhage of this 
array was horrible. Kempt, on the left wing, asked for re- 
enforcements. " There are none." Wellington replied. Al- 
most at the same moment, by a strange coincidence which 
depicts the exhaustion of both armies, Ney asked Napoleon 
for infantry, and Napoleon answered, " Infantry ? where does 
he expect me to get them ? Does he think I can make 
them ? " 

The Iron Duke remained firm, but his lips blanched. The 
Austrian commissioner, Vincent, and the Spanish commis- 
sioner, Alava, who were present at the battle, thought the 
duke lost. At five o'clock Wellington looked at his watch, 
and could be heard muttering, " Blucher, or night." 

It was this moment that a distant line of bayonets glis- 
tened on the heights on the side of Frischemont. This was 
the climax of the gigantic drama. 

Every body knows Napoleon's awful mistake ; Grouchy 
expected, Blucher coming up, death instead of life. Destiny 



The Battle of Waterloo. 265 

has such turnings as this : men anticipate the throne of the 
world, and perceive St. Helena. Had the action begun two 
hours sooner it would have been over at four o'clock, and 
Blucher would have fallen upon the battle gained by Napo- 
leon. The rest is known — the irruption of a third army ; 
the battle dislocated ; eighty-six cannon tliundering simulta- 
neously ; a new battle rushing at night-fall on the weakened 
French regiments ; the whole English line resuming the of- 
fensive, and pushed forward ; the gigantic gap made in the 
French army by the combined English and Prussian batter- 
ies ; the extermination, the disaster in front, the disaster on 
the flank, and the guard forming line amid this fearful con- 
vulsion. As they felt they were going to death they shouted, 
" Long live the Emperor ! " History has nothing more strik- 
ing than this death-rattle breaking out into acclamations. 
The sky had been covered the whole day, but at this very 
moment, eight o'clock in the evening, the clouds parted in 
the horizon, and the sinister red glow of the setting sun was 
visible through the elms on the Nivelles road. It had been 
seen to rise at Austerlitz. 

Each battalion of the Guard, for this denouement, was com- 
manded by a general ; Friant, Michel, Roguet, Harlot, Mal- 
let, and Pont de Morvan were there. When the tall bearskins 
of the grenadiers of the Guard with the large eagle device 
appeared, symmetrical in line, and calm in the twilight of 
this fight, the enemy felt a respect for France ; they fancied 
they saw twenty victories entering the battle-field with out- 
stretched wings, and the men who were victors, esteeming 
themselves vanquished, fell back ; but Wellington shouted, 
" Up, Guards, and take steady aim." The red regiment of 
English Guards, which had been lying down behind the 
hedges, rose ; a storm of canister rent the tricolor flag waving 
above the heads of the French ; all rushed forward, and the 
supreme carnage commenced. The Imperial Guard felt in 
the darkness the army giving way around them, and the vast 
12 



266 Pictures from English History. 

staggering of the rout ; they heard the cry of " Sat/he qui 
pent!" substituted for the ^''Vive I'Empereur !" and with 
flight behind them they continued to advance, hundreds fall- 
ing at every step they took. None hesitated or evinced 
timidity ; the privates were as heroic as the generals, and not 
one attempted to escape suicide. 

Ney, wild, and grand in the consciousness of accepted 
death, offered himself to every blow in this combat. He had 
his fifth horse killed under him here. Bathed in perspira- 
tion, with a flame in his eye and foam on his lips, his uniform 
unbuttoned, one of his epaulettes half cut through by the 
saber-cut of a horse-guard, and his decoration of the great 
eagle dinted by a bullet — bleeding, muddy, magnificent, and 
holding a broken sword in his hand, he shouted, " Come and 
see how a Marshal of France dies on the battle-field ! " But 
it was in vain — he did not die. He was haggard and indig- 
nant, and hurled at Drouet d'Erlon the question, " Are you 
not going to get yourself killed 1 " He yelled amid the roar 
of all this artillery crushing a handful of men, " O ! there is 
nothing for me ! I should like all these English cannon- 
balls to enter my chest ! " You were reserved for French 
bullets, unfortunate man. 

The rout of the. rear of the Guard was mournful ; the army 
suddenly gave way on all sides simultaneously, at Hougo- 
mont, La Haye Sainte, Papelotte, and Plancenoit. The cry 
of "treachery" was followed by that of "" Sauve qui peut!''^ 
An army which disbands is like a thaw — all gives way, cracks, 
floats, rolls, falls, comes into collision, and dashes forward. 
Ney borrows a horse, leaps on it, and, without hat, stock, or 
sword, dashes across the Brussels road, stopping at once En- 
glish and French. He tries to hold back the army, he recalls 
it, he insults it, he clings wildly to the rout to hold it back. 
The soldiers fly from him, shouting, " Long live Marshal 
Ney ! " In vain does Napoleon build a wall of what is left 
of the Guard ; in vain, does he expend his own special squad- 



The Battle of Waterloo. 267 

rons in a final effort. Guyot, who led the emperor's squadrons 
to the charge, falls beneath the horses of English dragoons. 
Napoleon gallops along the line of fugitives, harangues, urges, 
threatens, and implores them ; all the mouths that shouted 
"Long live the Emperor!" in the morning, remained wide 
open ; they hardly knew him. The Prussian cavalry, who 
had come up fresh, dash forward, cut down, kill, and exter- 
minate. The artillery horses dash forward with the guns ; 
the train soldiers unharness the horses from the caissons and 
escape on them ; wagons overthrown, and with their four 
wheels in the air, block up the road and supply opportunities 
for massacre. Men crush each other, and trample over the 
dead and over the living. A multitude wild with terror fill 
the roads, the paths, the bridges, the plains, the hills, the 
valleys, and the woods, which are thronged by this flight 
of forty thousand men. Cries, desperation ; knapsacks 
and muskets cast into the wheat ; passages cut with the 
edge of the sabers; no comrades, no officers, no generals 
recognized — an indescribable terror. Ziethen sabering 
France at his ease. The lions become kids. Such was 
this fight. Alas ! and who was it flying in this way ? The 
grand army. 

Did this vertigo, this terror, this overthrow of the greatest 
bravery that ever astonished history take place without a 
cause ? No. The shadow of a mighty ri^ht hand is cast 
over Waterloo ; it is the day of destiny, and the force which 
is above man produced that day. Hence the terror, hence 
all those great souls laying down their swords. Those who 
had conquered Europe fell crushed, having notJiing more to 
say or do, and feeling a terrible presence in the shadow. 
On that day the perspective of the human race was changed, 
and'Waterloo is the hinge of the nineteenth century. The 
disappearance of the great man was necessary for the advent 
of the great age, and He who cannot be answered undertook 
the task. The panic of the heroes admits of explanation ; 



268 Pictures from English History. 

in the battle of Waterloo there is more than a storm ; there 
is a meteor. 

At night-fall Bernard and Bertrand seized by the skirt of 
his coat, in a field near Genappes, a haggard, thoughtful, 
gloomy man, who, carried so far by the current of the rout, 
had just dismounted, passed the bridle over his arm, and was 
now, with wandering eye, returning alone to Waterloo. It 
was Napoleon, the mighty somnambulist of the shattered 
dream, still striving to advance. Victor Hugo. 



XLII. 
THE TURNING-POINT AT THE ALMA. 

[England and France became the allies of Turkey against Russia in the 
beginning of 1854, and the Crimean War began. The object of the ex- 
pedition was to attack Sebastopol, the great Russian stronghold. The 
allies landed at Eupatoria, on the west coast of the Crimea, on September 
14. A week later they reached the river Alma, and found fifty thousand 
Russians under Prince Menschikoff posted on the rocky heights of its 
south bank, and prepared to dispute their passage. The battle, September 
25, 1854, was hotly contested. Not till after three hours' hard fighting did 
the allies succeed in forcing the passage of the river. Then the scaling of 
the southern heights was commenced. After giving orders for the general 
advance, Lord Raglan, accompanied only by his staff, rode across the 
Alma at a point between the English and the French armies, mounted the 
opposite slope, and took up his position on a knoll far in advance of either 
of the allied armies, and in the very heart of the enemy's position. From 
this spot he commanded a view of nearly the whole ground destined to be 
the scene of the English attack. The writer was beside Lord Raglan on 
the knoll.] 

Lord Raglan looked upon that part of the Russian army 
which confronted ours ; he saw it in profile ; he saw down 
into the flank of the Causeway batteries, which barred the 
mouth of the pass ; and, beyond, he saw into the shoulder of 
the Great Redoubt, then about to be stormed by Codrington's 



The Turning-Point at the Alma. 



269 



brigade. Above all, he saw, drawn up with splendid pre- 
cision, the bodies of infantry which the enemy held in 



Kourgan^ 

o 

Hill. 



Russian 

I I 
Reserves. 



O 



Russian Right. 
. _^ _^ River Alma. 

Endish 



Causeway 
t t t t 

Batteries. 



Lord Raglan. 



Army. 



Russian 

I I 
Reserves. 

Russian Left. 



French Army. 



reserve. They were massed in two columns. The formation 
of each mass looked close and peifect, as though it had been 
made of marble and cut by rule and plumb-line. 

These troops, being in reserve, were, of course, some way 
in the rear of the enemy's batteries and his foremost bat- 
talions, but they were only nine hundred yards from the eye 
of the English general; for it was Lord Raglan's strange and 
happy destiny to have ridden almost into the rear of the 
positions, and to be almost as near to the enemy's reserves 
as he was to the front of their array. 

All this— now told with labor of words — Lord Raglan saw 
at a glance ; and at the same moment he divined the fatal 
perturbation which would be inflicted upon the enemy by 
the mere appearance of our head-quarter staff in this part of 
the field. The knoll, though much lower than the summit of 
the telegraph height, stood out bold and plain above the pass. 
It was clear that even from afar the enemy would make out 
that it was crowned by a group of plumed officers. It would 
not. Lord Raglan thought, occur to any Russian general that 
fifteen or twenty staff otificers, whether French or English, 
could have reached the knoll without having thousands of 



270 



Pictures from English History. 



troops close at hand. The enemy's generals would, therefore, 
infer that a large proportion of the allied force had won its 
way into the heart of the Russian position. 

This was the view which Lord Raglan's mind had seized, 

when at the very mo- 
ment of crowning the 
knoll, he looked round 
and said, "Our presence 
here will have the best 
effect." Then, glancing 
down as he spoke into 
the flank of the Cause- 
way batteries, and carry- 
ing his eye round to the 
enemy's infantry re- 
serves, Lord Raglan 
said, " Now, if we had a 
couple of guns here! " 
His wish was instantly 
seized by Colonel Dick- 
son and one or two 
other officers. They 
rode off in all haste. 

The rest of the group 
which had followed 
Lord Raglan remained 
with him upon the 
summit of the kr^^oll, and every one, facing eastward and 
taking out his glass, began to scan the ground destined to 
be assailed by the English troops. 

The Light Division had not then begun to emerge from the 
thick ground and the channel of the river, but presently 
some small groups, and afterward larger gatherings, of the 
red-coats appeared upon the top of the river's bank, on the 
Russian side ; and at length, seen in profile by Lord Raglan, 




The Turning-Point at the Alma. 271 



there began the tumultuous onset of Codrington's brigade 
against the Great Redoubt. 

Lord Raglan knew that the distance between him and the 
scene of the struggle at the Redoubt was too great to allow 
of his then tampering with it ; for any order that he might 
send would lose its worth in the journey, and tend to breed 
confusion. And it was not in his way to assuage his im- 
patience by making impotent eftbrts. 

Watching the onslaught of Codrington's brigade, Lord 
Raglan had seen the men ascend the slope and rush up over 
the parapet of the Great Redoubt. Then moments, then 
whole minutes — precious minutes— elapsed, and he had to 
bear the anguish of finding that the ground where he longed 
to see the supports marching up was still left bare. Then — a 
too sure result of that default — he had to see our soldiery re- 
linquishing their capture and retreating in clusters down the 
hill. 

This was the condition of things when, having been hurried 
down to the ford, and dragged through the river, and up over 
steep rugged ground, the two guns for which Lord Raglan 
had prayed were brought up at length to the summit of the 
knoll. They were guns belonging to Turner's battery, and 
they were already crossing the river when Dickson came 
upon them. The two pieces were soon unlimbered, and one 
of them — for the artillerymen had not all been able to keep 
pace — was worked by Dickson, with his own hands. 

The guns were pointed upon the flank of the Causeway 
batteries. Every one watched keenly for the result of the 
first shot. The first shot failed. Some one said, " Allow a 
little more for the wind ; " and the words were not spoken as 
though they were a quotation from " Ivanhoe," but rather in 
a way showing that the speaker knew something of artillery 
practice. The next shot, or the next shot but one, took effect 
upon the Causeway batteries. It struck, they say, a tumbril 
which stood just in the rear of the guns. 



272 Pictures from English History. 

It presently became a joyful certainty that the Causeway 
batteries exposing their flank to the fire from the knoll could 
not hold their ground ; and in a few moments a keen-eyed 
officer, who was one of the group around Lord Raglan, cried 
out, with great joy, " He is carrying off his guns ! " And this 
was true. The field-pieces which formed the Causeway 
batteries were rapidly limbered up, and dragged to another 
ground far up in the rear. 

With the two great columns of infantry, which constituted 
the enemy's reserves, it fared no better. After not more than 
two failures, the gunners got their range, and our nine-pound- 
ers plowed through the serried masses of the two Russian 
columns, cutting lanes through and through them. Yet for 
some minutes the columns stood firm. And even when the 
still increasing havoc at length overruled the punctilio of 
those brave men, it seemed to be in obedience to orders, 
and not under the stress of any confusing terror, that the 
two great columns gave way. They retreated in good order. 

Our gunners then tried their pieces upon the Vladimir 
battalions, and although the range was too great to allow of 
their striking the column, they impressed the Russian com- 
mander with a contrary belief. He was sure that these 
troops were reached by the guns on the knoll ; and it will be 
seen by and by that this his belief was one of the causes 
which helped to govern his movements. 

This was the time when the great column of the Ouglitz 
corps — being fired, it seemed, with a vehement spirit — was 
still marching down from the Kourgane Hill, with a mind to 
support the Vladimir battalions and enable them to press the 
retreat of our soldiery, then coming down in clusters from 
the Great Redoubt; but the disasters which Lord Raglan 
had that moment inflicted upon the enemy, by the aid of the 
two guns on the knoll, made it natural for the Russian gener- 
als, who saw what was done, to stop short in any forward 
movement. 



The Turning-Point at the Alma. 273 

The Ouglitz column, as we have seen, was stopped in the 
midst of its eager advance ; and, for want of the support 
which these troops had been going to lend, the triumphant 
Vladimir column was brought to a halt on the site of the 
Great Redoubt. 

So, here was the spell which now for several minutes had 
been governing the battle. The apparition of a score of 
plumed horsemen on this knoll may have had more or less to 
do with the resolve which led the Russian general to dis- 
mantle the Great Redoubt ; but, at all events, this apparition 
and the fire of Lord Raglan's two guns had enforced the 
withdrawal of the Causeway batteries, had laid open the 
entrance of the pass, had shattered the enemy's reserves, had 
stopped the onward march of the Ouglitz battalions, and 
had chained up the high-mettled Vladimir in the midst of its 
triumphant advance. A. W. Kinglake. 

12* 



2 74 Pictures from English History. 



CHRONOLOGY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 

[Note.— The figures in parenthesis refer to the page in the hody of the work on 
•vrhlch the event or person is further mentioned. Names of English sovereigns are in 
bold-faced type.] 



I. THE ROMAIC P£I&IOI>. 

55 B. C. TO 410 A. D. 

55 B.C. — First invasion of Britain by the Romans under Julius 
Csesar. (14.) 

54 B. C. — Second invasion by Caesar. Overthrow of King Cassi- 
vellaunus in battle. (14.) 

43 A.D. — Roman reconquest and settlement. 

50. — King Caractacus defeated, and taken captive to Rome. (15.) 

"When he saw the wealth of Rome he exclaimed, " Can a people 
possessed of such magnificence at home envy me my humble cot- 
tage in Britian ! " 

61. — Queen Boadicea, after inflicting much injury on the Romans, 
is defeated, and commits suicide rather than fall into Roman hands. 
(16.) The Christian religion first preached in Britain. 

In the reign of Nero, Boadicea had been taken prisoner, and 
scourged in the presence of the Roman army. She took fearful 
revenge in the destruction of several Roman plantations and 70,000 
Roman colonists. 

78. — Agricola completes the conquest of Britain, and much im- 
proves the island. (17.) 

121. — Roman Emperor Adrian visits Britain, and builds the wall 
from the Tyne to the Solway, to repel the invasions of the Picts. 

210. — The Emperor Severus visits Britain, and constructs the great 
northern wall across the island. (17, 18.) 

The wall of Severus was constructed of cemented stone, was 68 
miles long, 12 feet high, and 8 feet thick. It long served the purpose 
for which it was built, and traces of it still remain. 

286. — The Roman General Carausius becomes independent sov- 
ereign of Britain ; is assassinated after seven years. 



Chronology. 



275 



306, — The Emperor Constantius, father of Constantine the Great, 
dies at York. 

410. — Rome, divided, weakened, and hastening to her fall, aban- 
dons Britain. (18.) 

The Britons frequently appealed to Rome for help. One of these 
appeals was thus : " To Actius, thrice Consul. The groan of the 
Britons, — The barbarians drive us into the sea ; the sea throws us 
back on the barbarians ; so that we have nothing left to us but the 
wretched choice of being either drowned or butchered." 



II. ANC1I.O-SAXOM PERIOB, 

410 TO 837 A. D. 

410 to 449. — Britain ruled by native kings. (17, 18.) 

449. — First immigration of the Saxons, (21.) 

455. — War breaks out between Saxons and Britons. 

467. — AriliMi', king of Britons, successfully resists the invaders. 
Slain in 542. (23, 24.) 

495. — Cerdic, the great Saxon leader, arrives ; crowned King of 
Wessex, 521 ; and becomes founder of the line of early English 
kings. (21.) 

457 to 586. — Seven kingdoms, at various dates, established ; called 
The Heptarchy. 

570. — Death of Gildas, first British historian, 

597. — The spiritual conquest of Britain begins in the landing of 
missionaries from Rome under Augustine. (26-31.) 

A Christian Church had existed in Britain long before this. 
Eusebius mentions the apostles having preached in the British Isles. 
The martyrdom of St. Alban in En^-land took place A. D. 286. The 
missionaries from Rome, indeed, found a Christian Church there, 
acknowledging allegiance to the Irish Church, and suppressed it with 
bloody hands. 

680.— Csedmon, the first English poet, dies, (32.) 
688. — Ina, king of Wessex. First code of Saxon laws in 709. 
735. — Death of "The Venerable Bede," author of "An Ecclesi- 
astical History of England." (26, 32.) 
787. — First arrival of Danes in England. 
824. — Termination of the Saxon Heptarchy ; and 
827. — Egbert becomes first king of all England. 



276 Pictures from English History. 



III. EARI.Y EMC}L,ISH KIKGS. 

827 TO IOI3. 



827. — Egl>ert. 

832-834. — Wars with Danish invaders. 



851. — Severe battles with the Danes. 

857. — Etlaell>aSsl. Renewed Danish invasions. 

860. — EtlielSsert. Renewed Danish invasions. 

866. — Ellielrecl. Edmund, the under-king- of East Anglia, 
murdered by the Danes, for refusing to renounce Christianity. 
Ethelred fights nine great battles with the Danes. 

871. — Alfred tlie CJreat. (33-38.) 

"There is no other name in history to compare with his." — Free- 
man. Alfred the Truth-Teller — A great mind, a great character, a 
great opportunity, and a great career. 

877. — Alfred hiding from the Danes in a cowherd's cottage at 
Athelney. (34.) 

878. — Overthrow of the Danes by Alfred. Guthrum, their leader, 
and other chiefs, baptized, and settled in North England on the 
Danelagh. (37.) 

880.— Alfred builds the first English fleet, and, in 882 and 885, 
gains great naval victories over the Danes, and drives the invaders 
away, 

893-897. — Last Danish attacks on Alfred, under Hastings, de- 
feated. Hastings and his family taken prisoners, kindly treated, and 
released. (38,) 

901. — Ec8"^var«l I, (the Elder) is acknowledged as over-lord by 
the King of Scotland. 

924, — Atlielstasi, A brave and a wise king. 

" The culmination of the glory and power of Saxon England.'' 

937. — Battle of Brunanburgh ; defeat of a great alliance by Athel- 
stan ; five kings slain. Dunstan, the politician-priest, rises. (41-45.) 

941. — Edsniiiacl. (42.) 

946. — The king murdered, at a banquet, by an outlaw. 

946.— Edred. The first who was styled " King of Great Brit- 
ain." Dunstan made Abbot of Glastonbury. (42.) 



Chronology. 277 



955. — Edwy. Insult offered by Dunstan to Edwy and his bride, 
at their wedding-feast. Dunstan banished. The dominant clergy tort- 
ure and put to death the queen. Edwy dies broken-hearted. (43.) 

959. Edgar (the Peaceable.) 

960. — Dunstan recalled and made Archbishop of Canterbury. (44.) 

973. — Eight tributary kings row Edgar's barge upon the river Dee. 
(44.) Edgar causes the extirpation of wolves by offering bounties. 

975.— Ed^vard (the Martyr.) (45, 46.) 

975-978. — Contests between the regular and secular clergy. Arch- 
bishop Dunstan enforces celibacy. Rise of the Benedictine monks 
in England ; Dunstan in absolute power. 

978. — Edward murdered by his stepmother, while drinking a cup 
of wine at her door. (46.) 

978. — EtIieSred (the Unready.) (47.) 

991. — Firsl land-tax in England. Figures of arithmetic introduced. 

991-1013. — Repeated invasions of the Danes. Large tributes paid 
to induce them to depart, called " Danegelt," (Danes'-money.) 

1012. — General massacre of the Danes resident in England. 

1013. — Sweyn, the Danish sovereign, triumphs in England, and 
proclaims himself its king. Ethelred flees to Normandy. 

1014, — Ethelred returns, and dies. 
' 1 01 6, — Edmund Ironsides divides the rule with Canute ; 
and, the next year, is assassinated. 



IV. THE I>A»fI§H I.IXE. 

IOI3 TO 1041. 

1013-1016. — Sweyn, Danish, versus Ethelred, Saxon. 

1016-1035. — Canute, CKnut,) Danish, versus Edmund Ironsides. 
(48.) 

1019. — Earl Godwin (Celt) rises. Distinguishes himself in war in 
Denmark ; marries Canute's daughter. (51, 52.) 

1036. — Harold Harefoot. "A hard-drinking, misbelieving 
Dane." 

I039- — Hardicanute. 

A distinguished drunkard in a nation of sots. The first act of his 
reign he dug up his brother's body, cut off the head, and threw the 
remains in the Thames. Reimposes the " Danegelt." Drops dead 
in the midst of a debauch, and ends the Danish line, in 1042. 



27S Pictures from English History. 



V. SAX©I^-ENGI.I§M KIMGS I£E§TOREI>. 

IC41 TO 1066. 

Edward, (the Confessor,) son of Ethelred the Unready and 
Emma, sister of the Duke of Normandy, seated by the influence of 
Earl Godwin, marries the earl's daughter Edith. (No issue.) Acces- 
sion 1042, death 1066, reign 24 years. 

Edward was called " The Confessor" from his austere piety and 
his munificent founding of Westminster Abbey. His piety did not 
prevent his maltreating his wife Edith, whose gentle manners and 
virtues inspired praise from the Norman monks, who hated her 
father. " As the thorn is the parent of the rose, so is Godwin the 
father of Edith," ran one of these sonnets. 

1049. — Banishment of Earl Godwin, and confiscation t)f his estates 
through Norman influence. William, duke of Normandy, visits En- 
gland, and obtains a promise of the reversion of the crown to himself. 

1050. — Return of Godwin and expulsion of the Norman courtiers. 

1052. — Death of Godwin. His son Harold succeeds to the earl- 
dom. (53.) 

1054. — Usurpation of the throne of Scotland by Macbeth, and his 
subsequent overthrow by Siward, earl of Northumberland, and Mac- 
dufi and Malcolm. (See Shakespeare's play, " Macbeth.") 

1063. — Harold conquers the Welsh, who decapitate their renowned 
King Griffith. 

1065. — Harold is wrecked on the French coast ; the Duke of Nor- 
mandy compels him to swear on the sacred relics to support his 
(William's) claim to the English crown, and releases him. Tostig, 
Harold's brother, earl of Northumberland, is disinherited and ban- 
ished for cruelty and tyranny with his subjects. 

1066. — Edward the Confessor dies January 5, and is buried in 
Westminster Abbey, which he built. 

1066. — Harold II. chosen king by the Witanagemot. Accession 
Jan. 5, 1066; slain in battle Oct. 24, 1066; reign 9 months. (51-53.) 
Duke of Normandy demands the English crown. Refused. 

Sept. 25. — Tostig and Hardraada, king of Norway, invade North- 
umberland. Harold defeats the invaders at Stamford Bridge, near 
York. Tostig and Hardraada slain. (55.) 



Chronology. 279 



Just before this engagement Harold offered his brother peace and 
restoration to his earldom. " And what terms for my ally, Har- 
draada ? " asked Tostig. " Six feet of earth, or, as he is tall, perhaps 
a little more." Tostig declared he would not desert his friend, and 
ordered the battle to begin. "Who would have thought," says 
Scott, " that Harold within a few brief days would himself possess no 
more of his kingdom than the share which he allotted, in his wrath, 
to the Norwegian invader ? " 

Sept. 28. — William of Normandy with 60,000 men lands at Pevin- 
sey, near Hastings. (55.) 

Oct. 24. — The battle of Hastings, or Senlac : Harold slain, and the 
Norman invasion successful. (S5-6o.) 

" They [the Normans] boasted of fighting well and talking with 
ease ; methodical and persevering conquerors, and fond of scribbling 
on paper." — Taine. 



VI. THE WORMABf KIBfGS OF EEfCIiAWD. 

Four Kings. 1066 to 1154. 88 Years. 

'William I. (the Conqueror.) Accession 1067, death 1087, reign 
20 years. (53.) 

A learned and powerful prince ; at the age of eight he could read 
Csesar's Commentaries, and " at the age of fifteen he wielded the 
most redoubtable sword in Christendom." 

1068. — The tax of Danegelt reimposed. Ringing of the curfew- 
bell instituted. 

1069. — The lands, treasures, preferments, and women of England 
distributed among the Norman soldiers ; several insurrections created 
thereby. (54. 58. 59.) 

" There was splendid plunder going, and it was splendidly given 
away." 

1070. — The feudal system introduced ; all lands held by tenures or 
fiefs from the crown. 

1072. — William, having overrun England, invades Scotland, and 
subdues Malcolm HI. 

1073. — Great insurrection in the north, under Hereward. The 
English "camp of refuge," in the Island of Ely. Northumberland 
laid waste, so that for sixty years it remained wild. 



28o Pictures from English History. 

1077-79. — Rebellion of William's eldest son, Robert, who demands 
Normandy. Robert wounds his father in battle at Gerberoy, Nor- 
mandy. Reconciliation. 

"When summoned to abdicate in favor of his sons, William re- 
plied, grimly, ' I am not wont to undress till I go to bed.' " 

1080. — Doomsday Book began. A survey to facilitate the complete 
dispossession of the English, and to give the king control over the 
property and feudal service in arms of the whole people. It was 
seven years in finishing. 

" It was the Doomsday Book which, binding this young society in 
a rigid discipline, made of the Saxons the Englishman of our day." — 
Taine. 

1085. — William lays waste the greater portion of Hampshire, includ- 
ing sixty villages, to make a hunting-ground called the New Forest. 
The cruel forest laws enacted. 

1087. — William fatally injured by a fall of his horse in the siege of 
Nantes, Normandy ; dies at Rouen, Sept. 9. 

"He conquered, cajoled, crushed, pacified, ruled absolutely: En- 
gland was first Normanized, then Williamized." 

■WalSlaiii II., (Rufus,) son of William the Conqueror. Acces- 
sion 1087, shot in New Forest iioo, reign 13 years. 

Insurrection in favor of Robert of Normandy, headed by Odo, 
bishop of Bayeaux, his uncle, suppressed by William aided by En- 
glish recruits. 

1089. — Archbishop Lanfranc, William's tutor, a very learned prelate 
and statesman, died. William seized the revenues of the vacant see. 

1091. — War in Normandy between the brothers : Rufus retains 
many towns. Malcolm III. and his son, of Scotland, killed at the 
siege of Alnwick Castle. 

1096. — Robert resigns Normandy to Rufus for money. 

IIOO. — Rufus slain in the New Forest of his father, August i, by 
an arrow shot by Sir Walter Tyrrell. 

Peter the Hermit preached the Crusades during this reign. (60-66.) 

Henry I., (Beauclerc,) son of William I. Accession iioo, 
death 1135, reign 35 years. Marries Matilda of Scotland, of the 
old Saxon line, and thus unites the English and Norman blood. 

" His abilities were high even for one of the acute Normans." 



Chronology. 



I loo. — " The Charter of Liberties " granted by Henry ; afterward 
becomes the model of the Great Charter of John. 

iioi. — Rebellion of Norman barons in England ; Beauclerc over- 
throws them by the aid of 30,000 English volunteers. 

1 106. — Battle of Tenchbray, Normandy. Beauclerc overcomes his 
brother Robert, and consigns him to a twenty-eight years' imprison- 
ment in Cardiff Castle, where he dies in 1134. 

" Poor, generous, brave, dissolute, heedless, trusting Robert." — 
Dickens. 

1 109. — Archbishop Anselm, the peer and companion of Lanfranc, 
died. 

1 1 20. — Loss of the "White Ship " off the coast of France, and 
death of Prince William, only son of Beauclerc. Henry makes his 
nobles swear fealty to his daughter Matilda as his successor. " He 
never smiled again." 

1127. — Matilda marries (second alliance) Geoffrey Plantagenet, 
count of Anjou ; from which sprang the dynasty of Plantagenets, so 
called because of the count wearing a tuft of broom-plant in his hat. 
(Fn, Plant a Genes t a.) 

1 135. — Henry dies in Normandy, leaving his possessions to his 
daughter Matilda. 

Henry received the title Beauclerc (Fine Scholar) from his early 
love of study, and from his having made a translation of ^sop's 
Fables. He abolished the curfew laws. 

Steplien, of Blois, grandson of William L by his daughter 
Adele, seizes the throne in the absence of Matilda. Accession 
1135, death 1154, reign 19 years. 

" His complaisance of manner and his readiness to sit and regale 
with low people made him popular." 

1 1 37. — Robert, earl of Gloucester, and David, king of Scotland, 
uncles of Matilda, rise in her favor. Beginning of 16 years' war of 
succession. (66-74.) 

1 1 38. — Battle of the Standards, at Northallerton; King David 
beaten. Geoffiey of Monmouth, the famous chronicler, died. 

1 1 39. — Matilda lands in England; surprised and captured in 
Arundel Castle ; released. Stephen defeats the barons at Ely and 
other places. (69.) 

1 140. — Stephen defeated and taken prisoner at the battle of Lincoln. 
(70.) Matilda declared Queen of England. Stephen's queen, Maud, 



282 Pictures from English History. 

drives Queen Matilda from London, and besieges her at Oxford. 
Slie escapes over the snow in white garments. Gloucester and oth- 
er of Matilda's adherents captured by Queen Ma.ud. Stephen ex- 
changed for Gloucester, and the war goes on. 

At the battle of Lincoln, Stephen was left almost alone in the field, 
gnashing his teeth with rage, and so fierce that no man dared to ap- 
proach him. He drove back all his assailants with his battle-ax, " to 
the eternal renown of his courage." At length his trusty weapon 
snapped, and then he drew his sword which was soon shivered with 
the violence of his strokes. He was thrown on his knees by a blow 
from a large stone which had been hurled at him, but even in this 
extremity he refused to give up his sword to any but the Earl of 
Gloucester. 

1 147.— Gloucester dies, and Matilda quits England. 

1143. — William of Malmsbury, another noted chronicler, dies. 

II 52. — Henry Plantagenet, son of Matilda, invades England for 
his own rights. 

1 1 53, — Peace of Wallingford : Stephen to rule during life ; Henry 
to succeed him. 

II 54.— Oct. 25, Death of Stephen, 



TH. THE PI.AWTA€}EWETS. 
Eight Kings. 1154 to 1399. 245 Years. 

Henry II. First Plantagenet. Grandson of Henry L Acces- 
sion 1 1 54, death 1189, reign 35 years. 

" He was of middle stature, so that among little men he was not 
,over much, nor among tall men looked he little. His head, round in 
token of great wit, his curly hair clipped short, shows a lionous vis- 
age. High insteps, he has legs able in riding. Long champion 
arms and broad breast. His court is a school for well-lettered men, 
and in his conversation with them he is ever discussing questions. 
None is more truthful than our king in speaking, nor in alms more 
bountiful." — Peter op Blois. 

1 1 56. — Thomas ^ Becket made chancellor. 
1 1 57. — Henry subdues the Welsh. 

1 1 59. — War with France. Nicholas Breakspear becomes Pope 
Adrian IV,, the only Englishman who ever sat on the pontifical throne. 



Chronology. 283 



1 162. — Becket made Archbishop of Canterbury to bring the clergy 
more under royal authority. The king and Becket quarrel regarding 
Church and State authority. 

1164.— The Constitutions of Clarendon, defining clerical subjection 
to civil laws, adopted by the Council of Clarendon, and signed by 
Becket and the clergy. Becket subsequently recants, and the pope 
condemns the articles. November 2, Becket is condemned by the 
Council, and flees to Rome. 

1 169. — Partial reconciliation between Henry and Becket, in Nor- 
mandy. Becket returns to England. 

During Becket's absence the king had caused his son Henry to be 
crowned King of England and his successor. The king, who was 
an over-fond parent, himself served his son at the table, and re- 
marked, "My son, there is no prince in Europe who has such a 
serving-man at table." "No great condescension," sneered the 
prince, in allusion to his father's parent, the Earl of Anjou, "for the 
son of an earl to wait on the son of a king." When Becket returned 
to England he broke the truce between himself and the king by ex- 
pelling all the clergy who had assisted at the coronation of the prince 
without his consent as primate of the EngUsh Church. (75.) 

1 170. — Murder of Becket in Canterbury Cathedral. (75-79.) 

Two years after his death Becket was canonized by the pope, and 
the anniversary of his death set apart as the festival of " .St. Thomas 
of Canterbury." In 1220 Henry IH. set his bones in jewels and de- 
posited them in a splendid shrine, which for three centuries continued 
to be the object of one of the great pilgrimages of Christendom, and of 
offerings of immense value. These pilgrimages still live in Chaucer's 
"Canterbury Tales," literature having proved more enduring than 
superstition. At the Reformation Henry VIII. broke up the shrine, 
and caused Becket's bones to be burned and scattered to the 
winds. 

1 171. — All Ireland, except Ulster, subjected to England. 
1 173. — Revolt of the queen and four sons of Henry, (Henry, Rich- 
ard, Geoffrey, and John,) who join France against him. 

" All Europe saw with astonishment the best and most indulgent 
of parents at war with his whole family." 

1174.— Penance and scourging of King Henry at the tomb of 
Becket to secure popularity, (80-83.) Ranulph da Glanville, by a 
bold dash, captures the King of Scotland and sixty knights invading 
England. (83.) 

1 181. — Codification of Laws by De Glanville, C.-J. 



284 Pictures from English History. 

1185-87. — Renewed rebellion of the princes, aided by France. 

King Henry once caused to be painted and sent to his sons a 
picture of a nest of young eagles picking out the eyes of their parent. 

II 89. — Henry dies of grief at Chinon, Normandy, during a cam- 
paign against "the Rebellious Eaglets," cursing them. 

On his sick-bed the list of his allied enemies was read to him. 
The name of his favorite son, John, was first of these. Turning his 
face to the wail he exclaimed, " Now let every thing go as it will ! I 
care no more for the world or myself." And muttering, " Shame, 
shame on a conquered king ! " he passed sullenly away. 

Ulcliard I., ("Coeur de Lion,") son of Henry II. Accession 
1189, death 1199, reign 10 years, 

" A strong, restless, burly man with one idea always in his head, 
and that the very troublesome one of breaking the heads of other 
men."— Dickens. " Heart of steel and hand of iron, proud of heart, 
loose of life, bloody of hand." " A fighter and nothing more." 
" That magnificent warrior." 

1 1 89. — Massacre of Jews at Richard's coronation. By extortion 
and simony Richard raises money for the Crusade. 

"The modes by which the lion-hearted king raised money appear 
to combine the attributes of the tryant and the swindler." — Knight. 

1 190. — Richard, King Philip of France, the Duke of Austria, and 
other princes go upon the Third Crusade. 

1191. — Richard and Philip quarrel, and Philip returns to France. 
John, Richard's brother, plots his deposition from the English 
throne. (84.) 

1 192. — Returning homeward Richard is wrecked in Austria and 
held for ransom by the duke. (84.) 

Richard was captured disguised as a turnspit in an inn kitchen. 
A costly signet ring betrayed him. The cause of Duke Leopold's 
enmity against Richard was this: During the Crusade, upon a cer- 
tain occasion, Askelon had to be hastily fortified against the Saracens, 
every body working. The Duke of Austria declined to help, declaring 
contemptuously that he was no stone-mason. Whereupon the duke 
was incontinently kicked by King- Richard until he took hold with 
the rest. He remembered the kicks and the enforced toil. 

II 94. — Great sums raised in England, and Richard is liberated; 
pardons John. " I will try to forget my injuries as soon as John will 
forget my pardon." 



Chronology. 285 



1 198. — Richard takes revenge on King Philip in the battle of 
Gisors, France. 

1 1 99. — Richard fatally wounded in an assault on a castle in Li- 
moges. 

Robin Hood and his merry foresters flourished. (85.) 

"He was a national hero — Saxon in the first place, and waging 
war against bishops and archbishops, whose sway was so heavy." 
His feats survived in rude ballads for four hundred years. 

JoSiii, son of Henry H., brother of Richard I. Accession 1199, 
death 1216, reign 17 years. 

"Foul as it is, hell is defiled by the presence of John." " Licen- 
tious, superstitious, cowardly, blood-thirsty, treacherous, and cor- 
rupt." 

1200. — John deserts his own wife and abducts the wife of the 
Count de la Marche. 

1202. — Prince Arthur, John's nephew, rightful heir to the throne, 
captured and soon after put to death. (See Shakespeare's play, 
" King John.") 

1203. — General revolt against John in Normandy; he flees to En- 
gland ; his barons refuse to support his cause ; his continental pos- 
sessions fall away to France. 

1207. — Johndisputes with the pope the right of appointing bishops. 
He defies the pope, and the kingdom is laid under an interdict. John 
confiscates the livings and goods of all the clergy who obey the inter- 
dict; some of them put to death by torture. 

l209.-^John is excommunicated. 

1 210. — Heavy taxes laid on the clergy by John. 

1211. — The pope absolves John's subjects from their- allegiance. 

1212. — The pope declares John deposed, and gives his crown to 
the French king. A French fleet to enforce the claim destroyed by 
the English. 

121 3. — John yields when strongest, surrenders his crown to the 
pope's legate, who wears it three days and then bestows it on John 
as (eofi of the pope, at a yearly tribute of 1,000 marks. 

1214. — John attempts to punish his barons for refusing support ; 
they league together for new guarantees, under Stephen Langton, 
archbishop of Canterbury. (98.) 

1215. — Jan. The barons demand the Great Charter. May 24. The 



286 Pictures from English History. 

barons occupy London. John agrees to their terms. June 15. 
Magna Charta signed at Runnymede. (100-102.) 

John employs foreign mercenaries to make war on his subjects. 
The crown offered to Prince Louis of France by the confederated 
barons. 

1216. — Louis brings a French army to England. The barons 
swear fealty. John dies' of fever during the hostilities. One ac- 
count is that he was given poison in a dish of peaches by monks at 
Newark. 

Sterling money first coined, and chimneys first used during this 
reign. 

Hesary III., of Winchester, son of John. Accession 121 6, death 
1272, reign 56 years. 

Meek, profligate, and faithless, his failings, like John's, contributed 
to England's advancement. 

1216. — Oct. 26. Henry crowned ; aged nine 3'ears. 

1217. — May 20. Louis defeated at Lincoln by the English barons. 
Aug. 24. French re-enforcements for Louis overwhelmed in the 
Channel by Hubert de Burgh. Sept. 14. Louis abandons England 
and his pretensions. 

1227. — Henry infringes the charter: determined opposition of 

barons. 

Beginning of struggles between king and Parliament regarding 
royal spending-money and the observance of the charter. In order 
to obtain grants from Parliament he took oaths to support the 
charter as many as thirty times, and as often broke them. The 
barons did indeed push the king and court hard for money. In 
the year 1249 the king and court were so indigent that they were 
obliged to invite themselves to the tables of wealthy citizens, and 
even to beg contributions of bread and meat from subjects. Ne\er- 
theless, any grant of money was speedily squandered in court dissij^a- 
tions. Henry on one occasion caused his royal warrant to be served 
on Lord Clifford for some misdemeanor, who not only refused to ap- 
pear, but forced t'le king's officer to eat the writ, parchment, seal, 
and all. A general state of lawlessness and disorder prevailed. 

1238. — Rise of Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester; marries the 
king's sister. 

The people called him " Sir Simon the Righteous." The founder of 
the English Parliament ; a gallant soldier and wise statesman. (103.) 



Chronology. 287 



1252. — Henry and De Montfort quarrel, and De Montfort leads 
the barons' defense of the charter. 

" The Mad Parliament," at Oxford. Barons meet, armed, and ap- 
point a committee of government to supervise the acts of the king. 
Henry swears to support their acts. 

1260. — Matthew Paris, chronicler, died. 

1261. — Henry dismisses the Conmiittee of Government, and breaks 
his oath. 

1262. — " The Barons' War" begins. 

There were high scenes between king and nobles. He said to 
the Earl of Norfolk, " Sir earl, remember whose vassal you are. I 
could issue my royal warrant to thresh out all your corn." "Do," 
retorted the earl, defiantly, '-and I will send you the heads of the 
threshers." The queen made herself unpopular by her extravagance 
and by trying to levy a tax, called "Queen's-hithe," on all goods un- 
laden at London wharves. Her barges was mobbed on the Thames 
with all sorts of missiles, and cries of " Down with the witch ! Drown 
her ! " She barely escaped with her life. She soon after retired to 
France. 

1264. — May 12. The battle of Lewes. Henry, his brother, King of 
the Romans, and Prince Edward taken prisoners by Simon de Mont- 
fort. The treaty called " The Mise of Lewes " practically supersedes 
the king in authority. 

1265. — The first representative Parliament summoned by Simon 
de Montfort. (103-105.) Aug. 4. The battle of Evesham ; barons 
defeated, and De Montfort slain. (106-108.) 

1270. — Prince Edward sails for the Holy Land. 

1272.— Henry dies during his son's absence. 

Coal first used for firing ; linen sheets introduced by the Flems, 
and the mariners compass from the East ; distilling learned from 
the Moors; gunpowder invented. Westminster Abbey was rebuilt 
by Heniy IIL Roger Bacon, called " Friar Bacon " and " the Ad- 
mirable Doctor," the founder of English philosophy, rose. (Born 
1214, died 1292.) 

Edwaral I., son of Henry HL Accession 1272, death 1307, 
reign 35 years. 

"The Last of the Crusaders." "The English Justinian." "The 
Hammer of the Scots," His true motto was " I keep faith." The 
best beloved of the Plantagenets. 

1272. — A regency appointed during Edward's absence. 



Pictures from English History. 



1274. — Coronation of Edward and his queen. 

1282. — Conquest and annexation of Wales. King Llewellyn slain. 

During this campaign Edward's first son was born in Wales, and 
presented to the native chiefs as "a prince born in Wales, and who 
could not speak English," which they had demanded. The heir-ap- 
parent of the British crown has since been called the Prince of Wales. 

1289. — Final expulsion of the Jews from England, with great 
cruelty. 

1292. — Edward, chosen umpire of a disputed succession to the 
throne of Scotland, declares himself over-lord of Scotland, and 
" sentences Baliol to a degraded throne." 

1295. — Scotland and France at war with England. First House 
of Commons meets. 

1296. — Battle of Dunbar ; capture of Berwick, and massacre of its 
inhabitants by Edward. He removes the sacred " Stone of Scone " 
from Scotland to Westminster Abbey. 

The Stone of Scone was reputed to have been the pillow on which 
Abraham rested his head in the vision of heaven, and to have been 
brought to Scotland by the first Christian missionaries from Ireland. 
The kings of Scotland were long crowned sitting on it, and it was 
believed the rule of her kings should extend wherever the stone was 
taken. Since Edward's time it has remained in Westminster Abbey, 
and all his successors have been crowned sitting in the chair of which 
it forms a part. 

1297.-^156 of Wallace, the Scottish patriot; he defeats the En- 
glish at Sterling. Edward forced by the barons to the "Confirma- 
tion of the Charters," another step in the advance of constitutional 
freedom. 

The barons were as high-stomached with Edward as they had 
been with his father. The king summoned them as vassals to go 
with him to the invasion of France, which they refused to do. To 
the Earl of Norfolk he said, angrily, " By the Lord, sir earl, you shall 
either go or hang." " By the Lord, sir king, I will neither go nor 
hang," retorted the earl. And he did neither. 

1298.— Battle of Falkirk ; Scottish defeat and loss of 15,000 men. 

1301. — Parliament denies the authority of the pope in temporal 
matters. 

1304. Betrayal and capture of Wallace; is executed as a traitor, 
Aug. 23, 1305, his body cut in pieces and sent to different parts of 
the kingdom. 



Chronology. 289 



1306. — Rise of Robert Bruce. Crowned King of Scotland. 
1307. — May 10. Battle of Loudon Hill ; Bruce defeats the English. 
July 7. Edward dies in the midst of the campaign. 

The dying king enjoined on his son, it is said, not to inter the 
father's remains until the conquest of Scotland should have been 
completed, and directed his bones to be carried at the head of the 
army until that consummation. Though this injunction was dis- 
regarded, his body lay unburied for some months, and once in two 
years, until 1771, the coffin was opened and the cerements renewed; 
But no Plantagenet ever ruled over Scotland. 

Windmills, spectacles, and paper introduced in this reign. 

Ed'^vardl II., son of Edward I. Accession 1307, deposed 1327, 
reign 20 years. A weak, innocent, and unfortunate prince. 

1308. — Order of Knights Templar suppressed. 

131 1. — " Ordinances of Westminster" banishing the king's favorite, 
Gaveston, and giving more power to the barons ; Gaveston returns 
in 1312, and is beheaded. 

1314, — June 23. Battle of Bannockburn. (108-113.) 

Scarcely had the nation recovered from the fearful shock of Ban- 
nockburn when it was attacked by both pestilence and famine. The 
harvests failed and murrain broke out among the cattle. The king 
and his family found difficulty in obtaining bread for the royal table. 
Corn rose to ten times its previous value, and the people were com- 
pelled to subsist on roots, horses, dogs, and loathsome animals, and 
sometimes on human Hesh. The country was overrun by robbers, 
and the kingdom was a scene of violence, the court torn by cabals 
and treasonable factions. 

1322. — Battle of Boroughbridge ; rebellious barons under the Earl 
of Lancaster defeated ; the earl and several other noblemen executed. 

1326. — Treason of Queen Isabella and her paramour, Mortimer; 
the king deposed and afterward murdered in Berkeley Castle. 

E<I\rai'<l III., son of Edward IL Accession 1327, death 1377, 
reign 50 years. 

"Every yeoman throughout his realm was drawn closer to the king, 
who wept bitterly at the news of his father's death, though it gave 
him a crown ; whose fiercest burst of vengeance was called out by 
an insult to his mother ; whose crosses rose as memorials of his love 
and sorrow at every spot where his wife's bier rested. " I loved 
her tenderly in her life-time," wrote Edward to Eleanor's friend, the 
13 



290 Pictures from English History, 

Abbot of Clugny ; " I do not cease to love her now she is dead." Few 
scenes in our history are more touching than that which closes the 
long contest over the Charter, when Edward stood face to face with 
his people in Westminster Hall, and, with a sudden burst of tears, 
owned himself frankly in the wrong. His life was pure, his piety 
manly and sincere. — Green. 

1330. — Coup d'etat ; Edward, taking control into his own hands, 
seizes and beheads Mortimer, and sends his mother into retirement, 

Edward and a few knights made their way by night through a secret 
under-ground passage into the castle of Nottingham, and seized Mor- 
timer and his guards. The queen, eti deshabille, rushed in screaming, 
" Spare Mortimer ! Have pity on my gentle Mortimer ! " 

1333. — The Scots defeated at Halidon Hill. " Outbreaking of war 
with France saved Scotland, by drawing the strength of England 
across the Channel." 

1339.— Beginning of the Hundred Years' War between England 
and France. 

1340. — Edward, claiming the French crown by right of his mother, 
Isabella of France, wins a great naval victory off Sluys, Flanders, 

1346. — Battle of Cressy ; signal defeat of the French by an inferior 
force of English, (113-118.) Battle of Neville's Cross ; King Da- 
vid, of Scotland, taken prisoner by Edward's Queen, Philippa. 

1347. — Capitulation of Calais after a year's siege. (11 9-1 23.) 

1349. — Brilliant festivities in England over the victories ; the Order 
of the Garter established ; the Black Death puts an end to the re- 
joicing, and carries off a third of the population of England and of 
Europe. 

1356. — Battle of Poitiers, France; French defeated; King John 
and his son taken prisoners by the Black Prince. 

Although no hope of victory remained, King John continued fight- 
ing in the thickest of the melee, until he found himself almost alone, 
and surrounded by dense masses of his enemies. At this juncture 
the Prince of Wales, nearly fainting from fatigue, dispatched the 
Earl of Warwick to obtain intelligence of the king's fate; and this 
nobleman was but just in time to rescue the unhappy monarch from 
a crowd of Gascon and English soldiers who surrounded him, and 
were contending about the right to his ransom. John was then con- 
ducted to the pavilion of the Prince of Wales, who treated his illus- 
trious captive with every consideration. He even waited upon him 
at supper, stood behind his chair, and entertained him with soothing 
and consolatory discourse. 



Chronology. 291 



1360. — Treaty of Bretigny ; by it Edward renounces his preten- 
sions to the crown of France in consideration of territorial cession. 

1369. — The reform tenets of Wycliffe first promulgated. 

1376. — Death of the Black Prince. 

1377- — Duke ot Lancaster supports Wycliffe; riot in London, Lan- 
caster's palace ransacked. 

Cannon first used at Cressy ; cloth-weaving introduced from Flan- 
ders ; pleadings at law ordered to be made in English, not in French ; 
the Lords and Commons first sat in different chambers in this reign ; 
Sir John Froissart, a graphic chronicler, flourished 

Kiclaard II., grandson of Edward IIL Accession 1377, de- 
posed 1399, reign 22 years. 

An unfortunate prince, the victim of cabals and baronial disorder. 
" Brilliant abilities marred by fitful inconstancy and a mean spirit of 
revenge." 

1 38 1. — Wat Tyler's insurrection. (124-129.) 

1388. — Battle of Chevy Chase ; Harry Hotspur defeated by the 
Scots under Douglas ; the subject of the fine old ballad which Sir 
Philip Sidney declared " more stirred his blood than a trumpet-call." 
Contest between Richard and the confederate lords, ending in 

1389. — Richard's ascendency over the regents, his uncles. 

One day in May, at a sitting of the Lords Appellant, Richard 
turned suddenly to Gloucester, his uncle, and said : " Uncle, how old 
am I?" " Your majesty is in his twenty-second year," replied the 
unsuspecting duke. " Then," said Richard, " I must be old enough 
to manage my own affairs. I have served a longer tutelage than any 
ward in my kingdom. I thank you, my lords all, for the trouble you 
have taken in my behalf thus far, but I shall not require your services 
any longer." He demanded the great seal and keys, made up anew 
ministry, and soon came out a full-fledged tyrant. 

1398. — The Earl of Norfolk and Henry of Bolingbroke, earl of 
Lancaster, banished on charges of treason. 

I399-— Henry of Lancaster returns from banishment, deposes the 
king, and is acknowledged King Henry IV. End of the Plantagenet 
line. (134-139-) 

Richard had rebuilt Westminster Hall, and the first sitting of Par- 
liament therein was to decree his dethronement and ruin. 



292 Pictures from English History. 



Till. THE MOUSE ©F L.AWCASTEI£ AMB YOKK. 
Five Kings. 1399 to 1485. 86 Years 

The following titles to " Hall's Chronicle " forna an epitome of 
the history of the eight succeeding reigns : 

" I. The Unquiet Time of King Henry the Fourth." 
" H. The Victorious Acts of King Henry the Fifth." 
" HI. The Troublous Season of King Henry the Sixth." 
" IV. The Prosperous Reign of King Edward the Fourth." 
" V. The Pitiful Life of King Edward the Fifth." 
" VI. The Tragical Doings of King Richard the Third." 
"VII. The Politic Governance of King Henry the Seventh." 
"VIII. The Triumphant Reign of King Henry the Eighth." 

Henry IV. Accession 1399, death 1413, reign 14 years. 

" One of the coldest, hardest, most unamiable, but most energetic 
and useful of our kings." — White. " Uneasy lies the head that 
■wears a crown," Shakespeare makes him say. 

1400. — The ex-King Richard murdered in Pontefract Castle. 

1401. — Statute for burning heretics passed; Rev. W. Sawtre, the 
first English martyr, burned. Welsh rebellion under Owen Glen- 
dower. 

1402. — Battle of Homildon Hill ; Scotch defeat ; Douglas captured. 

1403. — Insurrection of the Percies in Northumberland ; Harry 
Hotspur killed in the battle of Shrewsbury. 

1405. — Another insurrection in Northumberland ; the Archbishop 
of York and others captured and beheaded. 

1408. — Battle of Barnham Moor; the Earl of Northumberland and 
others slain, and the last insurrection against Henry terminated. 

141 3. — Death of Henry IV. in Jerusalem Chamber, Westminster 
Abbey. 

" I, sinful wretch, by the grace of God king of England and of 
France, and lord of Ireland, bequeath to Almighty God my sinful 
soul and the life I have misspended, whereof I put me wholly at his 
grace and mercy." So wrote King Henry IV. in his last will, when 
the frightful reality of leprosy had disenchanted the rapturous dream 
of usurpation. 



Chronology. 293 



Hemry V., son of Henry IV. Accession 141 3, death 1422, reign 
9 years. 

" The conqueror of his enemies and of himself." " Harsh and 
cruel." "Attained an austere piety unusual among his predeces- 
sors." 

1414. — Persecution of the Lollards ; several burned. (132, 133.) 

141 5. — Invasion of France; battle of Agincourt, October 25, in 
which 10,504 English defeat 50,000 French. (139-144.) 

1417. — Second invasion of France; civil discords and anarchy in 
France aid English conquest ; Sir John Oldcastle burned for heresy. 

(132.) 

X41C). — Treaty of Troyes ; King Charles of France acknowledges 

Henry as his heir in succession to the French crown, and gives him 

his daughter Catherine in marriage. 

1422. — Henry enters Paris in triumph, and shortly after dies in 

camp. 

" Hunt? be the heavens with black, yield day to night I 

Comets, importint? change of times and states, 

Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky, 

And with them scourge tbe bad revolting stars 

That have consented unto Henry's death ! 

England ne'er lost a king of so much worth." 

In this reign London was first lighted by lanterns ; John Huss 
and Jerome of Prague, German reformers, were burned ; Sir Richard 
Whittington was Lord Mayor of London and a famous architect. 

Henry "WI., son of Henry V., crowned King of both England 
atid France 1422, deposed 1461, murdered in the Tower 1471. 

"A poor, pale shadow of a king." Pious, weak, imbecile, a calamity 
to his realm. This age produced two French girls, his superiors in 
all manly qualities, viz., his wife, Margaret of Anjou, and Joan of 
Arc, the Maid of Orleans. 

1424-29. — Continued successes of the English in France. 

1429. — Rise of Jeanne d'Arc, "the Maid of Orleans," and deliver- 
ance of France. 

143 1. — Jeanne d'Arc burned by the English for heresy. Henry 
crowned in Paris. 

1450. — Jack Cade's insurrection fomented by the Duke of York. 

(I45-) 

1455. — Rebellion of the Duke of York, and beginning of the Wars 
of the Roses; Yorkists, white rose; Lancastrians, red rose. (146.) 



294 Pictures from English History. 

First battle of St. Albans ; Yorkists victorious, King Henry taken 
prisoner. (147.) 

1459. — Battle of Bloreheath ; Yorkist victory. Rise of Warwick, 
" The King-maker." (147.) " The man whose hand built a throne, 
and whose word dispersed an army." 

1460. — June. Battle of Northampton ; Yorkist victory. (147, 148.) 
Treaty providing that York should succeed to the throne on the 
death of Henry VI. (148.) Dec. 31. Battle of Wakefield Green; 
Lanjcastrians win ; York is slain. (149.) 

1461. — Feb. I. Battle of Mortimer's Cross ; Yorkist victory. Feb. 
17. Second battle of St. Albans; Lancastrian victory; King Henry 
delivered from his captors. Mar. 4. York enters London, and is de- 
clared King Edward IV. (149.) Mar. 28. Battle of Towton ; York- 
ists win ; King Henry, Queen Margaret, and Prince Edward fly to 
Scotland. (150.) June 29. Edward IV. crowned. 

In this reign printing was invented. " The Hundred Years' War," 
begun in 1346 by Edward III., for his right to the French throne by 
his mother's title, terminated in the final abandonment of the claim 
by Henry VI., in 1453. 

Eclivard IV. Accession 1461, death 1483, reign 22 years. 

" He had some good points, but he was selfish, careless, sensual, 
and cruel." "Had the sole redeeming virtue of personal courage." 
" The founder of The New Monarchy." " Profound political ability." 

1464. — Lancastrians defeated at Hedgley Moor and Hexham. 

1469. — Quarrels between Edward and Warwick. Edward virtu- 
ally a prisoner in Warwick's castle. Reconciliation. (151.) 

1470. — Rising of Lancastrians, and fresh quarrels between Ed- 
ward and Warwick. Warwick flees to Normandy, takes sides with 
Queen Margaret, and invades England. Edward flees to Flanders. 
Henry VI. released from the Tower, and restored to the throne. 

1471. — Return of Edward; battle of Barnet, April 30; Warwick 
defeated and slain ; King Henry again sent to the Tower, (i 52-161.) 
May 4. Battle of Tewksbury ; Lancastrians defeated ; Queen Mar- 
garet and the Prince of Wales taken ; the prince murdered. May 22. 
King Henry murdered in the Tower. 

1478. — Duke of Clarence murdered in the Tower. 

1483.— Death of Edward IV. 

Printing introduced into England by Caxton. 



Chronology. 295 



[From the preface of the first book printed in England by William 
Caxton :] " Forasmuch as in the writing of the same my pen is worn, 
my hand weary and not steadfast, mine eyes dimmed with overmuch 
looking on the white paper, and my courage not so prone and ready 
to labor as it hath been, and that age creepeth on me daily and 
feebleth all the body, and also because I have promised divers gentle- 
men and to my friends to address to them, as hastily as I might, the 
said book, therefore I have practiced and learned at my great charge 
and dispense to ordain this said book m print, after the manner and 
form as ye may see, and is not written with pen and ink as other 
books be, to the end that every man may have them at once ; for all 
the books of this story here emprynted as ye see, were begun in one 
day, and also finished in one day." 



brother of Edward IV., wrested the scepter from 
Edward V., infant son of Edward IV., July 6, 1483 ; killed on Bos- 
worth-Field 1485, reign 2 years. 

" Harsh and vindictive in his relations to the great, liberal and 
benevolent to the masses of the people." " Most of the stories of 
his heinous crimes became current during the reign of his successor, 
whose object was to strengthen his own weak claim to the throne 
by blacking the character of his predecessor." 

1483. — Lancastrian uprising suppressed. Buckingham beheaded. 

1485. — Henry, earl of Richmond, invades England, defeats and 
kills Richard on Bosvv^orth-Field, and is proclaimed King Henry VII. 
End of the Wars of Roses and of the royal lines of Lancaster and 
York. (162-166.) 



IX. "THE MOUSE ©F TfJ©®S£. 
Five Sovereigns. 1485 to 1603. 118 Years. 

Henry VII., descended from Edward III. by John of Gaunt, 
duke of Lancaster ; married Elizabeth, daughter of Edward IV., and 
so united the houses of York and Lancaster. Accession 1485, death 
1509, reign 24 years. 

" His temper silent, jealous, but essentially commonplace. He 
looked with dread and suspicion on the revival of letters." " The 
destroyer of chivalry, of freedom, of public honor, and private inde- 
pendence." "Combination of tyranny and meanness, a royal swind- 
ler." 



296 Pictures from English History. 

i486. — Lambert Simnel, the pretender, personates Edward, earl of 
Warwick ; is crowned in Dublin " King Edward VI.; " defeated and 
made prisoner in the battle of Stoke, June 16, 1487 ; made scullion 
in the king's kitchen. (166.) 

1491. — Perkin Warbeck's pretension. Claims to be Richard, duke 
of York, second son of Edward IV., and takes the title " Richard IV." 
(166-170;) in 1493 is acknowledged by the King of France and by 
the Duchess of Burgundy, sister of Edward IV., as rightful King of 
England ; in 1496 King James of Scotland acknowledges " Richard 
IV. ; " gives him his cousin. Lady Gordon, in marriage, and invades 
England in his behalf fruitlessly ; in 1497 " Richard IV." invades 
England, is repulsed and captured. 

1492. — Discovery of America. 

1497. — Cabot discovers Newfoundland under the auspices of 
Henry Vll. 

1498. — De Gama doubles the Cape of Good Hope. 

1499. — " Richard IV." and the imbecile boy. Earl of Warwick, ex- 
ecuted for treason. 

1504. — Henry's eldest daughter, Margaret, married to James IV. 
of Scotland, whence sprang the Stuart dynasty, and occurred the 
union of the two kingdoms. 

1507. — Extortions of Henry through his emissaries, Simpson and 
Dudley. 

As an instance of the miserly habits of King Henry VII., the fol- 
lowing letter from the widowed princess, Catharine of Arragon, 
wife of Henry's eldest son, deceased, to her father is given: "Since 
I came to England I have not had a single maravedi, except a certain 
sum which was given me for food, and this is sych a sum that it 
did not suffice without my having many debts in London ; and that 
which troubles me most is to see my servants and maidens at such 
loss that they have not wherewith to get clothes." 

MeiBFy VIII., son of Henry VII. Accession 1509, death 1547, 
reign 38 years. 

"The most tyrannical of kings., and the most bloodthirsty of hus- 
bands." "He was a most intolerable ruffian, a disgrace to human 
nature, and a blot of blood and grease on the history of England." 
Sir Walter Raleigh says, " If all the patterns of a merciless tyrant 
had been lost to the world, they might have been found in this 
prince." 



Chronology. 297 



1 513. — " The battle of the Spurs," in France ; Louis XII. defeated. 
Battle of Flodden-Field ; James IV. and most of the Scotch nobility- 
slain. 

1 517. — The Reformation begun in Germany by Martin Luther. 

1520. — Meeting of Henry and Francis I. in "The Field of the 
Cloth of Gold." (i 71-174.) Great ascendency of Cardinal Wolsey 
in England. 

1521. — Henry styled "Defender of the Faith" by the pope, for 
writing a book against Luther. 

1526. — The pope refuses to divorce Henry from Catherine of Ara- 
gon ; the beginning of the breach between England and Rome. 

1530. — Henry divorced by Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury. 
Fall and death of Wolsey. 

To such enormous wealth, and to such a pinnacle of splendid 
power had Wolsey arrived by the year 1518, that his expenditure was 
lavish in the extreme, his establishment consisting of eight hundred 
individuals. As representative of the pope, whenever he went 
abroad, the ensigns of his dignity were borne before him ; he was 
surrounded by noblemen and prelates, and followed by a long train of 
mules, bearing coffers on their bacl-cs, covered with crimson cloths. 
He built Hampton Court Palace, and, when it was completed and 
furnished to his taste, presented it to Henry. At Oxford he endowed 
seven lectureships, and founded the splendid College of Christ 
Church, which still remains a monument of his munificence. He 
erected also a college at his native town of Ipswich. Wolsey even 
aspired to the papal dignity, but all his intrigues and lavish bribes 
were useless, for three tunes was he rejected by the Sacred College. 

1533. — Henry marries Anne Boleyn. 

1534. — Supremacy of the pope in England abolished, and Henry 
declared Supreme Head of the Church in England. 

1535. — Fisher, bishop of Rochester, and Sir Thomas More behead- 
ed for denying the spiritual supremacy of Henry. 

1536, — Suppression of the monasteries to the numberof 3,219, and 
confiscation of their property and livings. Religious insurrections, 
among them " The Pilgrimage of Grace." Queen Anne executed for 
treason. May 19. (175-180.) Henry marries Jane Seymour, May 20. 
Death of William Tyndale, translator of the New Testament. 

1537. — The Bible published in English; Death of Jane Seymour. 

She died in giving birth to a prince. The king was so distressed 
for the loss of the mother of his heir that he actually assumed a 
mourning garb, which he wore for six months. This he had not 
13* 



298 Pictures from English History. 

done previously, nor did he so on a future occasion. We might, there- 
fore, infer that his affection for Jane Seymour was sincere ; but in 
a month after her death Henry sought another wife. 

1539. — The Six Articles, or Bloody Statute, passed, under which 
Protestants are burned as heretics for denying, and Catholics as 
traitors for refusing to acknowledge, Henry's supremacy. 

1540. — Jan. 5. Henry marries Anne of Cleves. July 9. He is di- 
vorced from her. Aug. 8. Henry marries Catharine Howard. Crom- 
well beheaded. " The figure of Cromwell is the most terrible in our 
history." 

1542. — Queen Catharine beheaded for treason. Defeat of the 
Scots at Solway Moss. 

1543. — Henry marries Catharine Parr. 

1547. — Execution of the Earl of Surrey, the earliest writer of En- 
glish blank verse, Jan. 13. Jan. 28. Henry VHI. dies. 

It is stated in HoUinshed's " Chronicles " that no less than seventy- 
two thousand persons were executed on the gibbet in this reign. 

Ed-ward TI., son of Henry VHI. by Jane Seymour. Accession 
1547, death 1553, reign 6 years. 

" He was an amiable boy, of very good qualities, and had nothing 
coarse or brutal in his disposition, which in the son of such a father 
is rather surprising," 

1547.— Duke of Somerset made protector of the king, now nine 
years of age. Somerset signally defeats the Scotch at Pinkie 
Field. Popish images burned. English Catechism published by 
Cranmer. 

1549.— Acts passed allowing marriage of clergy and establishing 
the use of reformed liturgy. 

1552.— Execution of Somerset for felony. The Book of Common 
Prayer ordained. 

1553.— Edward appoints Lady Jane Grey his heir and successor, 
and dies at the age of fifteen. 

MiH-y, daughter of Henry VHI. by his first wife, Catharine. 
Accession 1553, death 1558, reign 5 years. 

" As bloody Oueen Mary she will ever be justly remembered with 
horror and detestation in' Great Britain. The stake and fire were 
the fruits of this reign."— (Her character by Motley, p. 185.) 



Chronology. 299 



1553. — The RoiTiish religion restored in England. The Book of 
Common prayer and English Catechism suppressed. 

1554. — Rebellion of Sir Thomas Wyatt against the projected mar- 
riage of Mary to Philip of Spain. Lady Jane Grey and her husband 
beheaded. The Princess Elizabeth, afterward queen, sent to the 
Tower. Mary and Philip married, (i 84-1 86.) 

It was Mary's dearest wish to convert her sister Elizabeth to the 
Roman Catholic religion, and the fear of death for a time induced 
her outwardly to conform to the Roman ritual. Still her sincerity 
was doubted, and the queen caused her to be catechized relative to 
the doctrine of transubstantiation, or the actual presence of Christ in 
the sacramental bread and wine. Elizabeth, who was no mean poet, 
replied thus : 

" Christ was the word that spake it, 

He took the hread and break it. 

And what His word did make it, 

That I believe aud take it." 

1555. — Beginning of the Marian persecutions, during which nearly 
three hundred Protestant martyrs were burned, including Latimer, 
Ridley, Cranmer, John Rogers, Hooper, and others. (180-184.) 

1557. — Proposed establishment ot the Inquisition in England. 

1558. — England and Spain declare war against France; Calais 
taken by the French after remaining in English hands 210 years; 
death of Mary, Nov. 17. 

As the English were marching out of Calais a French officer 
tauntingly asked an English veteran, " When do you intend to visit 
France again ? " "When your national crimes exceed ours," was 
the reply. It is said that Mary felt this disgrace to her arms so se- 
verely that on her death-bed she declared if her breast were opened 
after her demise, the word Calais would be found engraven on her 
heart. 

Coaches were first used in England, and the use of starch dis- 
covered. 

In this age, before the invention of carpets, it was customary to 
strew the floor with a layer of green rushes. Layer on layer of 
rushes was added, without any attempt to remove the accumulated 
dirt. Erasmus says : " As to the floors, they were usually made of 
clay, covered with rushes that grow in fens. These are so little dis- 
turbed that the lower mass remains for twenty years together, and in 
it a collection of every kind of filth ; hence, upon a change of 
weather, a vapor is exhaled most pernicious to the human body." 
Doubtless to this custom the frequent visitations of pestilence are 
partly to be attributed. 



300 Pictures from English History, 

Elisatoelli, daughter of Henry VIII. by Anne Boleyn. Acces- 
sion 1558, death 1603, reign 45 years. 

" Not half so good as she has been made out, not half so bad as 
she has been made out." " Had all the fauhs of a vain young woman 
long after she was an old one." "A nature hard as steel, a tem- 
per purely intellectual ; a bold horsewoman, a good shot, a graceful 
dancer, a skillful musician, and an accomplished scholar. Her polit- 
ical tact was unerring." " A life so great, so strange, so lonely in its 
greatness." 

1559. — The Protestant religion re-established, and the "Acts of 
Supremacy and Uniformity " passed ; Francis II., of France, and 
Mary Queen of Scots, his wife, assume the titles of " King and Queen 
of France, England, and Scotland." 

1560. — Treaty of Berwick, between Elizabeth and the Scottish 
Protestants, against French pretensions. 

1562. — The Thirty-nine Articles of the Church of England 
ratified. 

1563. — Rise of Leicester, Elizabeth's favorite, 

1565-67. — Marriage of Lord Darnley to Mary Queen of Scots, at 
the suggestion of Elizabeth; Darnley assassinated Feb. 10, 1567; 
Mary marries Bothwell May 15 ; resigns the Scotch throne July 24. 
1568. Mary attempts to regain the crown of Scotland; her forces 
defeated at Langside, May 14 ; flies to England and is imprisoned. 

156c). — Catholic insurrections ; mass celebrated in Durham Cathe- 
dral, and the Book of Prayer and the Bible burned. 

1572.— Execution of the Duke of Norfolk for conspiring to marry 
Mary and depose Elizabeth. 

The Duke of Norfolk was one of a commission sent by Elizabeth 
to inquire into the cause of the imprisoned queen, and, having 
formed a romantic attachment for her, his desire to free her from 
captivity induced him to enter into negotiations with Fenelon, the 
French'embassador, and the Duke of Alva, the Spanish viceroy in 
the Netherlands. Fenelon provided money, which was sent to Nor- 
folk in a bag. The man who acted the part of carrier, suspecting all 
was not right, delivered the bag to the council, and, being opened, 
it was found to contain letters which explained. 

Massacre of St. Bartholomew, France. 

1577. — Sir Francis Drake's voyage of exploration and plunder; 
circumnavigates the globe, and returns to England in 1580. 
1584. — Virginia discovered by Sir Walter Raleigh. 



Chronology, 301 



1585. — Death of Sir Philip Sidney in the attack on Zutphen, Neth- 
erlands. 

This admirable g-entleman, known to all future ages as " The 
Flower of Chivalrie," received his death wound at the battle of Zut- 
phen, fouglit between the Protestant allies and the Spanish Catholics 
of the Netherlands. In his agony he prayed a bystander to give him 
some waler to quench his burning thirst, and just as he was raising 
the cup to his lips a wounded soldier turned on him an appealing 
glance. " Give it to him," said the dying hero ; " his necessity is 
greater than mine." 

1586. — Babington's conspiracy to assassinate Elizabeth discov- 
ered; Mary tried for complicity and (February 8, 1587) beheaded. 

(187-1930 

1587. — Ravages of Sir Francis Drake on Spanish shipping. 

1588. — The Spanish Armada, sent to re-establish Catholicism in 
England, dispersed by a storm, and defeated by Howard, Drake, and 
other captains. (194-202.) 

1590-96. — Naval operations against Spain by Raleigh, Drake, 
Hawkins, and others. 

1598. — Tyrone's rebellion in Ireland, lasting eight years; death 
of Lord Burleigh, Elizabeth's great minister. 

" It became evident that the great minister of the great queen was 
passing to his end. His agonies were intense ; and when tlie power 
no longer remained to him of raising his hand to his mouth Elizaljeth 
herself tended him with the solicitude of a mother, and even took 
the food from the attendants to serve him with her own hands, 
Harrin.i;ton, the queen's godson, says, after Burleigh's death : 'The 
queen's highness doth speak of him in tears, and turns aside when 
he is discoursed of; nay, even forbiddeth his name to be mentioned.' 
Thus deeply did Elizabeth regret the loss of this faithful and veteran 
minister, who had piloted her and her people through so many 
shoals and quicksands." 

1601.— Quarrel of Elizabeth with Lord Essex, her favorite ; his 
treasonable conspiracy ; he is tried and executed. (203, 204.) Eliz- 
abeth abolishes trade monopolies and patents, which had grown 
oppressive. 

1603. — Death of Elizabeth, March 24. (203-206.) 

William Shakespeare, the greatest dramatist, 1564-1616; Chris- 
topher Marlowe, dramatist, 1 563-1 597; Edmund Spenser, poet, 
author of " The Faerie Queen," 1 553-1 599, flourished. The African 
slave-trade began (1562) ; watches introduced from Germany (1577) ; 



302 Pictures from English History. 

paper-mills built in England (1588) ; potatoes and tobacco brought 
from Virginia by Raleigh ; the East India Company established and 
the Poor Law act passed, (1601.) 



X„ TME HOUSE OF §TfJAI£T. 
Eight Sovereigns. 1603 to 1714. m Years. 

J"aiMe§ I,, son of Mary Queen of Scots. Accession 1603, death 
1625, reign 22 years. 

" He was ugly, awkward, and shuffling both in mind and body. 
His tongue was much too large for his mouth, his legs were much 
too weak for his body, and his dull goggle-eyes stared and rolled like 
an idiot's. He was cunning, covetous, wasteful, idle, drunken, 
greedy, dirty, cowardly, a great swearer, and the miOst conceited 
man on earth." — Dickens. " Under this ridiculous exterior lay a 
man of much natural ability, a ripe scholar, with a considerable fund 
of shrewdness, of mother wit and ready repartee." — Green. 

1603. — Plot to place Lady Arabella Stuart on the throne ; Lord 
Cobham and others executed. Sir Walter Raleigh imprisoned and, 
in 1618, executed. (207-212.) 

1604.— James was the first who was styled " King of Great 
Britain." 

1605. — Gunpowder Plot discovered ; Catesby, Digby, and Guy 
Fawkes executed. 

The conspirators — Catholics smarting under persecutions for their 
religion — mined beneath the hall of Parliament from a neighboring 
cellar, and deposited a magazine of explosives for the purpose of de- 
stroying both Houses and the king, royal family, and court when all 
should be assembled at the opening of Parliament, Nov. 5. One of 
the conspirators sent a letter to his friend. Lord Monteagle, warning 
him not to attend the session, as a great blow was to be struck, and 
yet those who suffered would not see who struck them. This started 
the inquiry that resulted in the discovery of the magazine, and the 
arrest of Guy Fawkes therein equipped with matches and tinder-box. 

1607.- — Hudson's Bay discovered by the navigator of that name. 
1 611. — Authorized translation of the Bible published. 
1619. — Circulation of the blood discovered by Harvey. 
1620.- -Landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth. 



Chronology, 303 



162 1. — Disputes between James and Parliament about monopo- 
lies ; James tears out of the Parliamentary records its assertion of 
the right of free speech. 

1622. — Weekly newspaper published. 

Ben Jonson, poet, 1574-1637 ; Beaumont and Fletcher, dramatists, 
1 586-161 5 ; Francis Bacon, jurist, statesman, philosopher, 1 561-1626, 
flourished. King James himself was something of a literary aspir- 
ant, and produced several essays. His " Counterblast " is a violent 
tirade against tobacco, the use of which he tried to show was directly 
inspired by the devil. 

Cliarles I,, son of James I. Accession 1625, beheaded 1649, 
reign 24 years. 

Able, scholarly, pure of life, infatuated with the idea of " the right 
divine of kings to govern wrong;" treacherous and tyrannical. 
" Faithlessness was the chief cause of his disasters, and is the chief 
stain on his memory." He reaped the baleful crops which both 
Tudors and Stuarts had sowed. 

1625. — First Parliament of Charles refuses supplies and is dis- 
solved. 

1626. — Second Parliament impeaches Buckingham, Charles' favor- 
ite, and is dissolved. The king raises supplies by a tax called " ship 
money." and other illegal means. 

1628. — Third Parliament passes the " Petition of Right," enacting, 
(i) no tax without consent of Parliament ; (2) no person imprisoned 
without due process of law ; (3) martial law not to be proclaimed. 
Parliament dissolved ; Buckingham assassinated ; unsuccessful cam- 
paign against France increases taxes and popular discontent. 

1629-40. — Charles for eleven years rules without Parliament, by 
the aid of Strafford and Archbishop Laud, oppressively and illegally. 

1634-38. — Imposition of "ship money" bravely resisted by the 
people, led by John Hampden. 

In place of obtaining grants of money from Parliament, Charles 
resorted to forced levies on the country. Ports and sea-coast towns 
were required to furnish an allotted number of ships, armed and 
manned, for the royal navy ; and inland counties were required to 
compound for the vessels by an equivalent money aid, called " ship 
money." This requirement set sparks to the inflammable public 
feeling. John Hampden, a country gentlemen, was imprisoned and 
suffered much for opposing these illegal exactions. 



304 Pictures from English History. 

1639. — Scotch Presbyterians (" Covenanters ") resist the introduc- 
tion of Church of England Liturgy, and form the " National Cove- 
nant." 

1640. — Fourth Parliament convened, and dissolved after three 
weeks. Scots invade England and defeat the royal troops at New- 
burn. The "Long Parliament" assembles; abolishes the Star Cham- 
ber and High Commission ; votes ship-money illegal ; attaints Straf- 
ford and Laud, and sentences Strafford to death ; and in 

1641 — Parliament passes the "Great Remonstrance," and obtains 
command of the royal army. Catholic insurrection in Ireland, and 
massacre of Protestants. 

1642. — Charles precipitates civil war by attempting to arbitrarily 
arrest the " Five Members " of Parliament. 

The " Five Members" were Hampden, Pym, Holes, Strode, and 
Haselrig. The king proceeded in person to the House and de- 
manded their impeachment — in itself a violation of law and Parlia- 
mentary privilege. He demanded the surrender of the members to 
his custody. The House refused to deliver them or to disclose their 
whereabouts, and as the king withdrew loud cries of " Privilege ! 
Privilege ! " rang through the hall. He attempted afterward, un- 
successfully, to arrest them from Guildhall, where they were sitting 
in Parliamentary committee. Menacing cries followed the king, and 
a placard was handed into the royal coach inscribed, " To your tents, 
O Israel ! " The outcome of this crowning act of tyranny was — 

. 1642, — Oct. 22, Battle of Edgehill, Warwickshire, between the 
" Roundheads," (Parliamentarians,) under Lord Essex, and the 
" Cavaliers," (Royalists,) under King Charles ; both claim the victory. 

At the battle of Edgehill young Prince Charles a-nd the Duke of 
York were left, unattended by guards, in the charge of the eminent 
Dr. Harvey, the discoverer of the circulation of the blood. He 
withdrew with the princes to the cover of a hedge, and there sat 
reading, oblivious of the battle raging near, until a cannon-ball 
whizzed near his head. Arousing and withdrawing to a greater dis- 
tance, he resumed his studies while the fate of a dynasty was being 
decided. 

1643. — June 18. Encounter at Chalgrove Field; John Hampden 
slain ; 346 victims ; Cavaliers, under Prince Rupert, nephew of the 
king, successful. First battle of Newbury, Berkshire ; indecisive. 

Hampden's death was caused by the bursting of his pistol in his 
hand. The weapon belonged to Sir Robert Pye, who had ordered 
his servant to see that his weapons were charged every morning ; 



Chronology. 305 



the result was the pistols were found loaded to the muzzle, and this 
caused the bursting". Macaulay says that for sobriety, self-command, 
perfect soundness of judgment, perfect rectitude of intention, history 
furnibhes a parallel to Hampden in Washington alone. 

1644. — July 2. Battle of Marston Moor, Yorkshire ; Roundheads 
and Scotch Covenanters, under Oliver Cromwell and Sir Thomas 
Fairfax, defeat the Cavaliers, under Prince Rupert. Oct. 27. Second 
battle of Newbury ; Roundhead success. The dogged obstinacy of 
Cromwell's " Ironsides " decided the brittle of Marston Moor when 
it was already lost to the Parliamentarians. (213.) 

1645. — Parliament passes the " Self-denying Ordinance," forbid- 
ding members of Parliament holding military offices. Archbishop 
Laud beheaded for his share in the abuses of Charles' reign. Battle 
of Naseby, Northamptonshire, June 14 ; Cromwell and Fairfax anni- 
hilate the king's army, and finish the war ; Charles surrenders to the 
Scots. 

In despair the king placed himself at the head of his Guards, and 
prepared to charge ; but his impetuosity was restrained by a Cavalier, 
who seized the bridle of the king's horse, exclaiming, with an oath : 
"Will you go upon your certain death in an instant.''" and then 
turned his horse abruptly aside. The Royalists, on seeing this, be- 
lieved Charles was preparing to retreat. The panic spread, and in a 
moment the regiment turned its back to the enemy. 

1647. — Charles surrendered to Parliament by the Scots upon the 
payment of $2,000,000. 

Charles was at Newcastle when this base compact was entered 
into. The information was conveyed to him as he was playing a 
game of chess. Without exhibiting the slightest emotion, although 
his attendants were horror-struck, the king quietly finished his game 
by checkmating his opponent, and answered, with dignity, that on the 
arrival of the commissioners appointed to receive him he would make 
his pleasure known. When told of the commissioners' arrival, the 
king, on hearing that he was about to be surrendered to them, ex- 
claimed, " I am bought and sold ! " Even the Scottish general was 
ashamed of the hideous business. 

1648. — The Scots, taking up arms for the king, are defeated by 
Cromwell at the battle of Preston. " Pride's Purge ; " Presbyterian 
members excluded from Parliament by Col. Pride for favoring 
Charles ; the remaining fifty members called " The Rump Par- 
liament." 



3o6 Pictures from English History, 

1649. — Charles brought to trial by the House of Commons alone, 
as a " tyrant, traitor, murderer, and public enemy of the Common- 
wealth." January 30. Charles beheaded in front of his palace at 
Whitehall. 

King Charles met death with Christian resignation and coolness. 
Addressing the executioner, he said : " When I put out my hands 
this way, then — " A few more minutes having been passed in med- 
itation, Charles knelt and laid his head on the block. " Stay for the 
sign," he remarked, hastily, thinking the headsman was about to 
strike. " I will, and please your majesty," was the reply. Another 
instant and the sign was given. The glittering ax descended, and a 
moment later the head was held aloft by the executioner, who ex- 
claimed, " Behold the head of a traitor I " 



1649 TO 1660. An Interregnum of 11 Years. 

1649. — Royalty abolished and England declared a Commonwealth 
by Parliament ; Cromwell defeat the Royalists in Ireland and restores 
order. 

1650. — Prince Charles proclaimed Charles II. by the Scots upon 
his signing the covenant ; they are defeated by Cromwell at Dunbar, 
Sept. 3. 

1 65 1. — Charles invades England ; is totally defeated at Worcester, 
Sept. 3 ; escapes to France. 

1652. — Naval war with the Dutch ; Blake defeated by Van Tromp 
off Dover. 

1653. — Expulsion of the Long Parliament after thirteen years' sit- 
ting, and assembling of Cromwell's " Barebones Parliament." (219.) 
Cromwell made " Lord Protector " of the Commonwealth ; several 
naval engagements with the Dutch end in Van Tromp being killed. 

In the beginning of these naval battles Van Trom.p had come out 
with a broom nailed to his mast-head, and swept the English from 
the Channel. Blake gathered more ships, fixed a horsewhip to his 
mast-head, and flogged the Dutch off the seas. Since that day every 
British ship of war carries the semblance of Blake's horsewhip in the 
narrow pennant at the mast-head. 

1655. — Conquest of Jamaica, W. I., and triumph of British arms 
abroad every-where. 

16^7. — Cromwell invited to become king ; refuses ; Blake attacks 



Chronology 307 



and destroys a Spanish fleet in the harbor of Cadiz, Spain ; Oliver 
Cromwell dies Sept. 3, 

1658. — Mtcliarcl Crosnwell, son of Oliver, proclaimed Lord 
Protector ; the Spaniards defeated by the allied English and French 
in the battle of the Dunes ; Dunkirk occupied by the English. 

1659. — Richard CromweU resigns the protectorate after eight 
months' occupancy ; Parliament dispersed by Gen. Lambert ; the 
army officers seize the reins of government. 

1660. — Gen. Monk enters London and restores the Presbyterian 
members to Parliament ; a new Parliament meets and restores the 
Stuarts with Charles IL 

Richard Cromwell, after a period of exile at the Restoration, re- 
turned to England and lived in peace half a century. In the reign of 
Queen Anne the ex-protector became involved in a lawsuit tried in 
the Court of Queen's Bench. His venerable appearance and other 
recollections excited the deepest interest in the audience, by whom 
Richard was treated with great respect. He gained his cause, and 
the queen applauded the kindness of the judge on this occasion. 
While the trial was pending Richard was induced to wander into the 
House of Lords. A gentleman, in the course of conversation, asked 
him if he had in his life ever beheld such an imposing scene. Point- 
ing to the' throne, Richard replied, " Never, sir, since I sat in that 
chair." Richard Cromwell died at his farm at Cheshunt in 1712, at 
the advanced age of eighty-six. His last words to his daughter were, 
" Live in love ; for I am going to the God of love." 



MESTORATIOM ®F TMSl ST5JARTS. 

Onai'Ies U,, son of Charles L Accession 1660, death 1685, 
reign 25 years. 

" Addicted beyond measure to sensual indulgence, fond of saun- 
tering and of frivolous amusements, incapable of self-denial and of 
exertion, without faith in human virtue or human attachment, without 
desire of renown, and without sensibility to reproach." — Macaulay. 

1660. Trial and execution of several of the regicides ; the remains 
of Cromwell, Pride, and other deceased Parliamentarians dug up and 
hanged at Tyburn ; repressive acts passed. The Corporation Act 
(1661) and Test Act (1673) prevented CathoHcs and Dissenters hold- 
ing any office ; these acts were not repealed until 1828. The Act of 



3o8 Pictures from English History. 

Uniformity (1662) compelled all clergymen to subscribe to the Book 
of Common Prayer ; 2,000 clerg-ymen refused, and were deprived of 
their offices and livings. The Conventicle Act (1664) prohibited 
public meeting for worship by Dissenters. 

1665. — Great plague ; 100,000 died in London. (221-226.) Sec- 
ond Dutch war ; great English naval victory off Lowestoft ; the En- 
glish capture New Amsterdam, (New York,) and the Dutch take 
Jamaica. 

1666. — Greater part of London burned during three days. 

The origin of this fire was attributed to the Catholics on suspicion, 
and, when the monument to commemorate that event was erected on 
Fish-street Hill, an inscription was placed upon its base saying that 
the city had been burned down by the papists. In reference to that 
inscription Pope wrote — 

"Where London's column, pointing at the skies, 
Like a tall bully, lifts the head, and lies." 

It was only as lately as the year 1831 that this false and scandalous 
libel was removed. 

1667. — Dutch sail up English rivers and ravage the country. 

1668. — "The Triple League" — England, Holland, and Sweden — 
against France. 

1670. — The Cabal Ministry, and universal misrule and court de- 
bauchery. 

1672.— Third Dutch War. 

1678. — Pretended Popish Plot ; perjuries ef Titus Oates and Dan- 
gerfield. 

Oates was a clergyman who had been deposed for his dissolute and 
profane life. He swore to the most absurd stories of the designs of 
the pope on-the liberties of England and the lives of the royal family 
and nobles. An anti-Catholic panic seized all classes. The jails 
were crowded with Catholics whom Oates and other informers had 
accused ; blood flowed like water. London was fortified and armed 
as in a state of siege. Suspicion even implicated the queen and the 
Duke of York, (afterv/ard King James II.,) and he was obliged to 
flee the kingdom. 

1679. — The Habeas Corpus Act passed. Insurrection of the Cov- 
enanters ; their defeat at Bothwell Bridge. 

1683. — The Rye House plot ; Lord William Russell and Algernon 
Sidney executed for alleged conspiracy to assassinate the king. 

The Rye House plot was formed for the assassination of the king 
and Duke of York as they should pass Rye House on their way to the 



Chronology. 309 



races at Newmarket. There was another scheme, entered into by- 
many nohlemen and members of Parliament, to secure the passjig-e 
of the Exclusion Act, which debarred the king's brother, James, from 
the succession ; he was generally feared as a Catholic and unscru- 
pulous man, with good reason, as subsequently appeared. Many who 
engaged in this legitimate undertaking were accused of complicity 
in the Rye House plot, Russell and Sidney being of the number. 

1685. — Death of King Charles. 

On the morning of his death the king asked the time, and being 
told that it was six o'clock, said, " Open the curtains that I may once 
more see the day." As long as his power of utterance remained, he 
was heard calling upon the name of God, and asking pardon for his 
sins. It is stated that even as death approached, Charles' politeness 
and good humor did not desert him ; that he said to his weeping at- 
tendants : " He was sorry for the trouble he was giving them, and 
hoped they would pardon him for being such an unconscionable time 
dying." 

Rochester once affixed the following verse to the door of the king's 
bed-chamber : 

" Here rests our sovereign lord the king, 

Whose word no one relies on, 
He never said a foolish thing, 
And never did a wise one." 

Charles expressed no anger on reading it, but remarked it was 
perfectly true, for while his language was his own, his acts were 
those of his ministers. 

John Milton, poet, 1608-1674; Samuel Butler, satirist, author of 
" Hudibras," died 1680 ; Jeremy Taylor, divine, author of " Holy Liv- 
ing and Dying," 1613-1667, flourished. 

James II., son of Charles I., brother of Charles H. Accession 
1685, deposed 1688, reign 3 years. 

The one object of his short reign was to re-establish the Catholic 
religion in England. "Diligent, methodical, and fond of authority 
and business ; his understanding was singularly slow and narrow, 
and his temper obstinate, harsh, and unforgiving." 

1685. — Insurrection of Monmouth and Argyle ; both executed. 
Judge Jeffries' " Bloody Assize." 

In the Bloody Assize the king's revenge was wreaked for the Mon- 
mouth uprising, and Jeffnes' cruelty aided much the final overthrow 
of the king. Jeffries made his boast that he had hanged more trai- 
tors than all his predecessors together since the Conquest. Over 
three hundred were hanged on this circuit, and eight hundred were 



3IO Pictures from English History. 

sold into slaveiy in the West Indies, to the profit of the king's court- 
iers ; one hundred were awarded to the queen, and the profit she 
made on them was computed at 1,000 guineas. Great sums were 
reaUzed by Jeffries and others from the sale of pardons. Twenty- 
four young girls of Taunton, who had presented flowers to the Duke 
of Monmouth when he entered their town, were arrested and given 
to the maids of honor of the court as their share of the spoils ; two 
thousand pounds were paid for their escape. 

1686. — Sir Isaac Newton discovers the law of gravitation. 

1687. — Declaration of Indulgence to Roman Catholics and Dissent- 
ers ; resisted by the clergy ; trial of the Seven Bishops for opposing 
it ; great rejoicing over their acquittal. 

1688. — Invasion of England by the Prince of Orange, at the invita- 
tion of the nobility and Church. (227.) 

James was naturally ill at ease on hearing that his son-in-law, 
William of Orange, the champion of Protestantism in Germany, had 
set out to invade the English dominions. Pie caused a large weather- 
vane to be erected on the roof of Whitehall, immediately opposite his 
private apartments, so that he might tell which way the wind blew, 
and thus know whether it wafted the Dutch fleet hitherward or not. 
If favorable to himself, he called it a Popish wind, and if otherwise, 
then he said it was a Protestant wind. This weather-A^ane may still 
be seen on the north end of the Banqueting House, ornamented with 
a cross. 

1688. — James abdicates the throne, destroys the great seal, and 
flees the kingdom, (227-233,) and "The Revolution of 1688" is 
peaceably effected. 

" It is because we had a preserving revolution in the seventeenth 
century that we have not had a destroying revolution in the nine- 
teenth. For the authority of law, for the security of property, for 
the peace of our streets, for the happiness of our homes, our grati- 
tude is due, under Him who raises and pulls dow-n nations at his 
pleasure, to the Long Parliament, to the Convention, [see below,] 
and to William of Orange." — MaCAULAY, close of second volume of 
"History of England." 

■William 111,5 (grandson of Charles I.,) and Mary II., (daugh- 
ter of James II.) Accession 1689, death of Mary 1694, joint reign 5 
years; WilUam died 1702, reign 13 years. 

" Silent, wary, self-contained, grave in temper, cold in demeanor, 
blunt and even repulsive in address, weak and sickly from his cradle. 
But beneath this cold and sickly presence lay a fiery and command- 



Chronology, 311 



ing temper, an immovable courage, and a political ability of the high- 
est order," — Green. (For a complete and graphic portraiture of 
William of Orange, see Macaulay's " History," chapter 8.) 

YInte7^regintm from Dec. 11, 1688, to Feb. 13, 1689, during which 
the Council and lords administer affairs. Jan 22, 1689, a Convention 
of the States of the Realm, irregularly convened, pass the Declaration 
of Rights, donig away with absolute prerogatives, defining the limit- 
ations of royal power and the rights of the people, declaring the 
throne vacant and calling William and Mary to it. " Greater things 
were done in those two months than in any period of our history," 
says White.] 

1689. — The Toleration Act, granting religious toleration to Protest- 
ant Dissenters. 

1690. — Battle of the Boyne; James and his Catholic adherents de- 
feated by William of Orange, his adherents called " Orangemen." 

1690. — Allied English and Dutch squadron defeated by the French 
off Beachy Head. 

1692. — French squadron defeated, off La Hogue, by English and 
Dutch. Greenwich I-Iospital, for aged and wounded seamen, founded 
by Mary in commemoration of the victory. Massacre of Glencoe ; 
the whole tribe of Macdonald butchered in bed by the English. 

1694. — Death of Mary from small-pox. 

When Archbishop Tenison informed the queen of her extreme 
danger, she replied, calmly : " I thank God I have always carried this 
in my mind, that nothing was to be left to the last hour. I have 
nothing now to do but to look up to God, and submit to his will." 
When the Archbishop of Canterbury paused, with tears in his eyes, 
on coming to the commendatory prayer in the Office for the Sick, she 
said to him : "My lord, why do you not go on.'' I am not afraid to 
die ! " 

There was estrangement between William and Mary in the early 
years of their marriage. Burnet, a mutual friend, detected the cause 
of it, and one day he explained to her that, by the laws of England, 
her title to the crown being prior, in case of her accession to the 
throne of England, her husband would occupy a second place, and 
be in fact a subject of his own wife. Mary's course was instantly de- 
cided upon. Burnet told her to consider well before she came to a 
resolution. " I want no time for consideration," she replied ; " bring 
the prince to me, that I may tell him my mind." The memorable 
interview took place on the following day, and then Mary said : " I 
did not know until yesterday that there was such a difference between 
the laws of England anfl the laws of God. But 1 now promise you 



312 Pictures from English History. 

that you shall alwaj's bear rule, and in return I ask only this, that, as 
I shall observe the precept which enjoins wives to obey their hus- 
bands, you will observe that wiiich enjoins husbands to love their 
wives." So generous a speech removed the cloud which had so long 
overshadowed the wedded life of these illustrious persons ; and 
from that time till the sad day when he was carried away in fits 
from her dying bed, there was an entire friendship and confidence 
between them." 

"Wlllsasii III. Sole reign from 1694 to 1702, 8 years. 

1695. — Namur, Flanders, captured by William. The press freed 
from censorship. 

1696.— Assassination plots fomented by James II. and his English 
adherents. 

1697. — Peace of Ryswick between England and France. 

1698. — England and France agree upon the division of Spain. 

1701. — The Act of Settlement, providing for succession to the 
throne, William being childless, and prohibiting any but a Church of 
England ruler. Death of James II. ; his son recognized by France 
as King of England ; William prepares for war. 

1702. — Grand alliance of England, Austria, and Holland against 
France. Death of William, resulting from a fall from his horse. 

John Locke, the philosopher, 1632-1704; Sir Isaac Newton, 1642- 
1727 ; Sir Christopher Wren, the architect of St. Paul's Cathedral 
and of other London churches, 1632-1713, flourished. Peter the 
Great, of Russia, worked in English ship-yards. The national debt 
was begun ; the cabinet ministry first formed. The Bank of England 
incorporated in this reign. 

Asiiie, daughter of James II. Accession 1702, death 1714, reign 
12 years. 

Anne, with the feeblest abilities and no personal spirit, had the 
good fortune to live in the period when literature first began to be 
important as an instrument of power, and when Marlborough carried 
our military fame to a height it had never reached. — White. 

1702. — War of the Spanish Succession; Louis XIV., of France, 
puts his grandson, Philip, on the throne of Spain ; the " Grand Alli- 
ance " of England, Austria, and Holland declare in favor of Arch- 
duke Charles of Austria for the succession ; the Duke of Marl- 
borough, in command of the allied forces, wins the victories of 
Blenheim, Austria, 1704; Ramillies, 1706; Oudenaarde, 1708; Mai- 



Chronology. 313 



plaquet, 1709. In 1705 the Earl of Peterborough's brilliant campaign 
in Spain resulted in the capture of Barcelona. 

1702. — Sir George Rooke destroys a French fleet in the port of 
Vigo. 

1703. — Naval victories of Admiral Dilkes. 

1704. — Capture of Gibraltar by Rooke. 

1707. — Articles of Union between England and Scotland ratified. 
Disastrous defeat of the English and Germans at Almanza, Spain. 

1711. — Ministerial revolution caused by the intrigues of Mrs. 
Masham, Anne's favorite ; fall of Marlborough. 

1713. — Treaty of Utrecht; Hudson's Bay, Newfoundland, Nova 
Scotia, Gibraltar, and the island of St. Kitts, W. I., and Minorca 
ceded to England. 

1714. — Death of Queen Anne. 

Joseph Addison, essayist, 1672-1719; Steele, with Addison, pub- 
lished " The Spectator " and " The Tatler. " Government first man- 
aged the post-office. Steam-engine invented. 



XI. THE MOUSE OF HAWOVEIS. 
The Line of Hanover. — 1714 to the Present Time. 

George I., grandson of James I. Accession 1714, death 1727, 
reign 13 years. 

" A character as nearly approaching insignificance as it was pos- 
sible for human nature to approach it." — Green. 

171 5. — Rebellion of Jacobites in favor of the Pretender, son of 
James II. ; defeated in the battles of Sheriffmuir and Preston. 

1718. — Alliance of England, France, Holland, and Austria against 
Spain. Naval victory of Admiral Byng off Cape Passaro. Spain 
obliged to make terms. 

1720. — "The South Sea Bubble," a great speculation devised to 
pay the national debt, impoverishes thousands. (234-241.) 

1 72 1. — Rise of Sir Robert Walpole. Habeas Corpus Act suspended 
in apprehension of revolutionary plots of Jacobites. 

Walpole was a man of small attainments but of strong natural 
qualities, the chief being energy, shrewdness, boldness, and indomi- 
14 



314 Pictures from English History. 

table will. He is said to have been the author of the saying-, " Every 
man has his price," and to have controlled men by bribery. His 
policy was to avoid foreign wars, and under his ministry England 
had peace and prosperity while all Europe was torn. " Fifty thou- 
sand men have been killed this year, in Europe, and not one of them 
an Englishman," he boasted. He ruled England absolutely for 
twenty- one years. 

1727. — Confederations against England ; war with Spain ; unsuc- 
cessful siege of Gibraltar by Spain. 

<xeoi*ge 11.5 son of George I. Accession 1727, death 1760, 
reign 33 years. 

"There was an openness and honesty about his personal dealings 
which gained his subjects' respect. He was blind to the charms of 
what, in his German accent, he called (fainting and (Poetry, but he was 
unambitious ; he did not trick nor quibble, and was more useful and 
infinitely more safe, in those days of loose political morality and un- 
principled selfishness, than if he had had greater abilities with more 
unscrupulous desires." — White. 

1739- — War with Spain. 

1740. — War of the Austrian Succession ; George supports Maria 
Theresa against Frederick the Great, of Prussia, and France. 

1742. — Downfall of Walpole and triumph of the war party. 

1743. — Battle of Dettingen ; English defeat the French. 

1745. — Quadruple alliance of England, Austria, Holland, and Sax- 
ony. Battle of Fontenoy, (1748;) English defeated. Rebellion in 
Scotland in favor of Charles Edward, " the Young Pretender," sur- 
vivor of the deposed house of Stuarts ; royal forces defeated at 
Preston Pans, 1745, and Falkirk, 1746; complete overthrow of " The 
Pretender" at Culloden, 1746. 

1747. — Battle of Lauffeldt ; English, under Cumberland, defeated 
by Marshall Saxe. English naval successes over the French at Finis- . 
terra and Bellisle. 

1748. — Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle ; England deprived of benefits of 
the war. 

1752. — Change of the Calendar, omitting eleven days to correct it, 
and making the year begin January i, instead of March 25, as pre- 
viously. 

1756. — "The Seven Years' War " conducted by the elder Pitt; 
England and Prussia against Austria and France. French capture 



Chronology. 315 



Minorca, and defeat Admiral Byng's fleet ; Byng tried and executed 
for cowardice. 

1757. — General Clive wins the battle of Plassy, India, takes Cal- 
cutta, and conquers Bengal. (245.) 

1758. — Destruction of Cherbourg. (244.) English take Fort Louis 
and the Island of Gorce, Africa, and Cape Breton and Prince Ed- 
ward's Island, America. 

1759. — Battle of Minden ; French defeated. (247.) Battle of the 
Heights of Abraham, Quebec, and death of General Wolfe. (244.) 

Floating down the St. Lawrence the night previous to the engage- 
ment, Wolfe repeated, in a low tone to the officers by his side, 
" Gray's Elegy, written in a Country Church-yard ; " and ended by 
saying: "Gentlemen, I would rather be the author of that poem, than 
have all the glory 1 feel sure of to-morrow." The young general 
dwelt with more than ordinary pathos on the verse : 

" The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
And all that honor, all that wealth, ere gave, 

Await alike the inevitable hour : 
The paths of glory lead but to the grave." 

1760. — Montreal taken and Canada conquered. (245.) 

Alexander Pope, ])oet, 1688-1744; Jonathan Swift, pamphleteer, 
politician, and satirist, 1667-1745 ; Daniel De Foe, author of " Rob- 
inson Crusoe," 1661-1731 ; Dr. Isaac Watts, writer of hynms, 1674- 
1748, flourished. British Museum established, 1753 ; Benjamin Frank- 
lin drew electricity from the clouds ; 146 persons perished of suffoca- 
tion in the "Black Hole of Calcutta," 

€3eorge III., grandson of George II, Accession 1760, death 
1820, reign 60 years. (250-255.) 

1763. — Peace of Fontainebleau terminates the seven years' war. 
Canada ceded to England. Arrest of John Wilkes for libel of the 
king, on a " general warrant ; " much excitement about personal lib- 
erty and freedom of the press. " Letters of Junius " published. 

The peace was made against the advice of Pitt, and he resigned 
the ministry to Lord Bute, an unpopular man. Pitt declaimed 
against the peace, and the press lampooned the ministry unmerci- 
fully. John Wilkes, in his paper, the "North Briton." assailed the 
ministry so savagely that he was signaled out for punishment. "A 
general warrant," a process of court signed in blank, allowed the 
arrest of any number of persons, in the discretion ot the officers, on 
suspicion of complicity with the alleged offense. W^ilkes, though a 
member of Parliament, was imprisoned, but was soon released by the 



3i6 Pictures from English History. 

courts ; again arrested, and delivered from the authorities by the mob ; 
he was expelled from Parliament, and his paper condemned to he 
burned by the hangman. Violent riots broke out, attended by cries 
of " Wilkes and Liberty ! " Lord Bute was burned in effigy, dared 
not appear in public, and v.-ns finally driven to resign. The " Letters 
of Junius " are the most polished and merciless political satires ever 
written. The authorslup of them is to this day unknown. 

1764. — Capt. Byron's explorations in the South Seas. Discovery 
of the longitude. 

1765. — American Stamp Act passed ; resisted by colonists and the 
next year repealed, under a change of ministry. 

" During the first half of the century the cotton trade had only risen 
from the value of twenty to that of forty thousand pounds ; but three 
successive inventions — that of the spinning-machine, in 1768, by the 
barber, Arkwright ; of the spinning-jenny, 1764, by the weaver, Har- 
graves ; of the mule by the weaver, Compton, in 1776 — turned Lan- 
cashire into a hive of industry. The value of coal as a means of 
producing mechanical force was revealed in the discovery by which 
Watt, in 1765, transformed the steam-engine." — Green. 

1767. — Duties on tea, glass, and paper, levied in the American 
colonies, resisted. Hargraves invents the spinning-jenny and Ark- 
wright the spinning-frame. 

1769. — Repeal of all taxes on American colonists, save that on tea ; 
Captain Cook's discoveries in the Pacific. 

1770. — Lord North's ministry, of unfortunate memory; Black- 
friar's bridge completed. 

1773- — Tea thrown into Boston Harbor by a mob; popular out- 
break in America. 

1775. — Battles of Concord and Lexington, "where the embattled 
fanners stood and fired the shots heard round the world," and of 
Bunker Hill ; beginning of the American Revolutionary War. 

1776. — Declaration of American Independence. 

1777. — Surrender of Burgoyne at Saratoga. 

The elder Pitt, Loi'd Chatham, vehemently opposed all the acts 
against the American colonies. His denunciation precipitated the 
change of ministry in '67. In 'tj Chatham was carried to the House 
of Lords to oppose the government policy. He looked, as he was, a 
dying man. He began, with eyes lifted toward heaven, saying : " I 
thank God that I have been enabled to come here this day to per- 
form my duty. I am old and infirm — have one foot, more than one 
foot, in the grave — I am risen from my bed to stand up in the cause 



Chronology. 317 



of my country — perhaps never again to speak in this House." By an 
extraordinary effort, suffering great agony, he made one of his grand- 
est orations ; after which, the stimulus of excitement being gone, he 
fell into the arms of his son, William Pitt, and Lord Mahon, his son- 
in-law, and was borne insensible home. A month later he died. 

1778-79. — League between France and Spain and America ; war 
with France and Spain ; siege of Gibraltar by the Spaniards ; its ob- 
stinate and successful defense during three years. 

1780. — Rodney defeats the Spanish fleet oft" Cape St. Vincent. The 
Gordon, or " No Popery," riots in London. [For a graphic account 
of these riots, see Dickens' " Barnaby Rudge."] 

1781. — Surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown. 

1782. — Independent Irish Parliament formed. 

1783. Treaty of Paris, acknowledging the independence of the 
American colonies. 

1783. — The treaty of Versailles and general European peace. 

The war had added five hundred millions of dollars to England's 
debt, cost many lives, much sacrifice of honor and pride, and the loss 
of her American colonies, and reduced the nation to a state of ex- 
haustion. The accruing advantages secured by the treaty were felt 
to be totally unequal to her sacrifices, and a storm of indignation 
swept the ministry from power. In the new government that rose 
first comes into power — 

1783 — William Pitt, the younger, aged twenty-five, and begins the 
long and bitter rivalry between him and Fox. 

1786. — Prince of Wales and Mrs. Fitzherbert scandals ; beginning 
of a long career of shame and disgrace. 

1787. — Power-loom invented. Trial of Warren Hastings for high 
misdemeanors in the government of India ; terminated, after seven 
years, in acquittal. 

1788. — Settlement of Australia. 

1789. — French Revolution begun ; Bastile forced ; Tuileries 
sacked ; r03-al family imprisoned and France declared a Republic, 
1791 ; Louis XVI., Maria Antoinette, and many of the nobles exe- 
cuted, 1793. 

1794. — War with France caused by French revolutionary agitations 
in England, attended by outbreaks, and by French discriminations 
against English commerce ; French generally successful ; Lord 
Howe defeats the French fleet off Brest. 

1795. — War with Holland for her alliance with France ; Cape of 



3i8 Pictures from English History. 

Good Hope and Dutch East Indies captured ; riotous demonstrations 
against tlie government on account of the taxes and unpopularity 
of the anti-republican French war ; attempt to assassinate King 
George. 

1797- — The Spanish fleet defeated off Cape St. Vincent and the 
Dutch fleet off Camperdown ; rise of Napoleon Bonaparte ; projected 
invasion of England ; terrible strain upon England ; Bank of England 
stops payment ; general distress. 

1798. — Irish Rebellion ; mutiny of the fleet at Spithead and the 
Nore ; war with Napoleon ; victory of the Nile. 

The French were rivals of the English for the control of the East, 
and Bonaparte's expedition to Egypt was to open a new road of em- 
pire to the Indies. The fleet which carried the French army to 
Egypt was attacked in Aboukir Bay, at the mouth of the Nile, by 
Nelson's fleet. Nelson, saying, " Before this time to-morrow I shall 
have gained a peerage or Westminster Abbey," attacked recklessly 
at 3 P. M., Aug. I, 1798. The French had 1,196 guns and 11,230 
men ; the English only 1,012 guns and 8,068 men. In two hours it 
was plain that victory was inclining toward the English. About 
half-past nine the French flag-ship, " L'Orient," blew up with such a 
terrific explosion that for some minutes the fighting was suspended. 
All night long that terrible action continued, and the whole French 
fleet was destroyed or captured, with the exception of four ships, 
which contrived to escape. ' 

1799. — Seringapatam, India, taken, and Tippoo Saib killed. 

1800. — Union with Ireland ; Malta taken from the French ; armed 
neutrality of the northern powers against England. 

1 801. — Battle of Copenhagen ; Danish fleet destroyed ; victory of 
Alexandria ; Sunday-school mission of Robert Raikes. 

1802. — Treaty of Amiens, "The Short Peace;" Bonaparte de- 
clared Consul for life. 

The Peace of Amiens, while it left France in possession of most of 
her conquests, contained scarcely an article in favor of the compensa- 
tion of England for all the sacrifices she had endured, and for the 
milUons upon millions of money she had expended. 

1803. — War renewed with France ; fall of Delhi, India, 

1805. — War with Spain ; battle of Trafalgar, and death of Nelson. 

The battle of Trafalgar was fought seven miles off Cape Trafalgar. 
The British fleet was 31 vessels, the French and Spanish fleet 40. 
Nelson ran up the signal, " England expects every man to 
DO HIS DUTY," and said, " We must trust to the great Disposer of 



Chronology. 319 



all events and the justice of our cause. I thank God for this great 
opportunity to do my duty." The fight was very desperate and well 
managed on both sides. Nelson v,'as a vain man, and, covering 
himself with all his decorations and bright uniform, paced his deck, 
a conspicuous object to the enemy's rifles, though remonstrated with 
on the peril. He was mortally wounded early in the action. . His 
last words were : " Thank God I I have done my duty." 

1806. — Death of Pitt and Fox. 

"Love of peace, immense industry', dispatch of business, knowl- 
edge of finance, a policy of active reform, wide humanity," are the 
qualities Green ascribes to the younger Pitt. " Had none of the 
usual passions or weaknesses of the great," says Allison. " The 
fame of Mr. Pitt," said Chateaubriand, " seems to derive fresh luster 
from every vicissitude of fortune." " Austerlitz killed Pitt," wrote 
Wilberforce. " Roll up that map ! " Pitt said, pointing to the map 
of Europe, " It will not be wanted these ten years." Such was his 
disappointment — hopelessness for the future of Europe. "Alas, my 
country ! " were his last words. " What grave contains such a fa- 
ther and such a son ? " exclaimed Lord Wellesley. 

Charles Fox was at heart a democrat, and sympathized with the 
French revolutionists. Gibbon said of him, " I admired the powers 
of a superior man as they were blended in his attractive character 
with the simplicity of a child." " A man made to be loved," said 
Burke. " Dissipated and irregular in private life ; having ruined his 
fortune at the gaming-table. He was the greatest debater the En- 
glish Parliament ever produced," says Allison. 

Sir Walter Scott wrote a beautiful poem on the death of Nelson, 
Pitt, and Fox. 

1807. — Bombardment of Copenhagen and surrender of Danish 
fleet ; slave-trade abolished. 

1808-13. — The Peninsular War ; Wellington finally drives Marshal 
Soult out of Spain and invades France, 18 14. 

181 1. — Insanity of King George, (254;) the Prince of Wales made 
regent ; Java surrendered to the British. 

The prince, afterward George IV., was a foul blot on England ; a 
roue, a sot, a gambler, a profligate, a trifler, and a coward, an undu- 
tiful son and worse husband. He prided himself on being " the first 
gentleman of Europe," and was its worst rake. In 1795 he married 
the Princess Caroline of Brunswick — a very suitable match, as she 
was coarse in manners, filthy in person, and indelicate in life. When 
they first m.et the royal groom-elect was so much disgusted that he 
cut the introduction short, called for brandy with an oath, and went 
immediately and got drunk ; while the bride-elect astonished every 



320 Pictures from English History. 

body by the equal coarseness of her language regarding the prince. 
He was in liquor when married. During his father's insanity, when 
the nation was in mourning over its losses in war and staggering 
under its burdens, the prince regent gave a festival of great magnifi- 
cence and prodigality. He was always ready to shed tears on the 
slightest provocation. He wept bitterly because Beau Brummel 
found fault with the cut of his coat. In 1817 public indignation 
brought down on the regent a mob ; his carriage was stoned, and he 
had been dragged out and perhaps killed had not the Life Guards 
rescued him. 

1 81 2. — Assassination of Percival, prime minister; war with the 
United States ; Bonaparte's disastrous Russian campaign ; burning 
of Moscow. 

181 3. — European confederacy against France ; Bonaparte driven 
out of Germany. 

1814. — The allied sovereigns enter Paris; abdication of Napoleon 
and his banishment to Elba ; general peace in Europe and America. 

The close of the war left every country in Europe in a state of ex- 
traordinary exhaustion. In England the Budget for 181 5 amounted 
to ninety millions of pounds sterling ; the national debt had increased 
from two hundred and twenty-eight to eight hundred millions ; while 
trade and commerce were frightfully depressed by the actual inabi- 
lity of foreign nations to purchase English manufactures. 

1815. — Bonaparte escapes from Elba ; battle of Waterloo, (255- 
263.) Second abdication and exile of Napoleon on St. Helena. 

1 816. — Bombardment of Algiers, in consequence of the refusal of 
the dey to give up piracy and enslavement of Christian captives ; he 
is reduced to compliance. 

1819. — Numerous meetings on parliamentary reform. 

The basis of representation in Parliament, the suffrage qualifica- 
tion, the " pocket boroughs " and " rotten boroughs," were features 
in which reform was demanded. For many years the bitterest feel- 
ings were excited and most violent scenes were enacted. The lead- 
ers of the movement were continually summoning monster meetings 
in different parts of the kingdom, frequently leading to riots which 
were not suppressed without loss of life. In Derby disturbances oc- 
curred which were not quelled until the ringleaders were captured 
and made to suffer the penalties of high treason. At Manchester a 
peaceable meeting was set upon by the military, and so many were 
killed and injured that it is remembered as " the Manchester massa- 
cre." Pposecutions were directed against the moi-e violent pam- 
phleteers of the time. 



Chronology. 321 



Edmund Burke, author, statesman, and orator, 1 730-1 797 ; Wedo-e- 
wood, improver of English earthenware, 1730-1795 ; Sir William 
Herschel, astronomer, 1738-1822 ; Sir Humphrey Davy, chemist, in- 
ventor of the " safety lamp," 1778-1829; Samuel Johnson, lexicogra- 
pher and author, 1709-1784; Oliver Goldsmith, poet and essayist. 
1728-1774; David Hume, 1711-1776; Edward Gibbon, 1737-1794; 
W. Robertson, 1721-1783, historians ; Tobias Smollett, novelist, 
1721-1771 ; Robert Burns, 1759-1796 ; E. Young, author of " Night 
Thoughts," 1684-1765 ; T. Gray, author of the "Elegy," 1716-1771, 
poets; Sir Joshua Reynold, painter, 1 723-1 792 ; Richard Brinsley 
Sheridan, orator and playwright, 1784-1816; Sir Philip Frances, 
supposed author of the " Letters of Junius," 1740-1818 ; John Wes- 
ley, founder of Methodism, 1703-1791, were among the great names 
of this long reign. 



CJeorge IV., eldest son of George III. Accession 1820, died 
1830, leaving no issue ; reign, as regent, 9 years, as king, 10 years. 
1820. — Trial of Queen Caroline. 

This was in the nature of proceedings for divorce before Parlia- 
ment. The princess had resided abroad for many years, and pro- 
posed to return when her husband succeeded to the throne. Every 
effort was made by the Government to deter her, in vain. The 
populace expressed its resentment against the king by taking up the 
queen's quarrel ; two hundred thousand people gave her an ovation 
on her arrival in London, and guarded her temporary residence — for 
she was not allowed in royal apartments. The progress of the bill 
in Parliament was attended by such riotous demonstrations that the 
ministry at last abandoned it. London was illuminated for three 
nights, and extravagant demonstrations were made in all large 
places ; it was treated as a popular victory over king and ministry, 
A disgraceful scene took place the next year at the coronation of 
George IV. She demanded to be crowned as queen, but this was 
denied ; then to take part in the ceremonies, which was also refused. 
She went in great force to Westminster Abbey, and endeavored to 
force her way in, but was repulsed. From that moment she lost all 
the confidence which had sustained her during the long years of her 
sorrows, and within a few weeks she breathed her last. The mistak- 
en policy of ministers in attempting to prevent the passage of the 
queen's remains through the principal streets of the metropolis 
caused a riot, in which two persons lost their lives. The government 
was forced to recede from its efforts to insult her in death, and the 
body was borne by a partisan mob in triumph through the city — one 
of the most disgraceful episodes that ever stained the character of 
English gentlemen. The disaffection in Scotland nearly amounted 
to a rebellion. 
14* 



322 Pictures from English Historv. 

1820. — The Cato Street conspiracy, for the assassination of the 
ministry and the establishment of a repubhc, detected ; execution 
and transportation of participants. 

1820. — Rise of Lord John Russell, George Canning, and Robert 
Peel, leaders in reform legislation, 

1822, — Famine and agrarian disturbances in Ireland. Distress in 
England ; taxes remitted. 

1825-26. — Financial panics, drought, riots throughout the king- 
dom. Daniel O'Connell's great agitation of Ireland for the repeal 
of the Union, and Catholic emancipation. 

1827. — Death of Canning. 

1829. — Removal of political disabilities from Roman Catholics. 

First steam-boats ran in this reign. Lord Byron, 1 788-1 824, and 
Keats, 1795-1821, poets, flourished. 

■WiOlam lY,, son of George III. Accession 1830, death 1837, 
reign 7 years. 

" A sailor king." Plain, bluff, honest, virtuous, and a friend of 
popular reforms, but timorous and vacillating. His last act was the 
signing, with his own hand, the pardon of a condemned criminal. 

1830. — First railway opened by George Stephenson. 

1832. — The Reform Bill at last passed. 

By this bill fifty-six rotten boroughs were deprived of the right to 
elect 143 members of Parliament, and these representatives were 
given to cities and towns which had theretofore been unrepresented ; 
the elective franchise was also enlarged. Riots occurred in many 
places, on the first bill being thrown out by the Lords. The Duke 
of Wellington's windows were broken ; in memory of which he put 
up iron shutters, which he retained always afterward as a silent re- 
proach to the people, whose very existence as a free nation he had 
saved, for their ungrateful violence. At Nottingham the rioters set 
fire to the castle. At Bristol the riots lasted three days, and were of 
a very serious character; the prisons were broken open, and the 
prisoners set free ; a hundred houses were burned down, and prop- 
erty to the value of half a million destroyed. Before order could be 
restored by the military, a hundred men were killed and wounded. 
Twenty-two of the ringleaders were transported ; four were hanged. 
Preparations were made for a march of 200,000 men from Birming- 
ham to London, to demand franchise reform, when the Lords yielded. 
Ignorant people were taught to believe that a perfect millennium was 
about to dawn for them, on the passage of the bill. It was said that 
rent and taxes would altogether cease, and that property would be 



Chronology. 323 



universal ; that wages would be doubled, and the price of necessaries 
of life reduced to one half. Sidney Smith, himself a strenuous re- 
former, thus wittily describes \\\^ fiirore; " All young ladies imagine 
that, as soon as this bill is carried, they will be instantly married ; 
school-boys believe that gerunds and supines will be abolished, and 
that currant-tarts must ultimately come down in price ; the corporal 
and sergeant are sure of double pay ; bad poets expect a demand for 
their epics ; and fools wdl be disappointed as they always are." 

1832. — Fearful ravages of cholera in England; 6,000 deaths in 
London, 

1833. — Slavery abolished throughout the British colonies; 800,000 
slaves freed ; government indemnifying slave-owners in $100,000,000 ; 
triumph of the life-work of William Wilberforce. 

1834-35 — Various Reform Acts passed. 

William Wilberforce, abolitionist, 1795-1833 ; Samuel Taylor Cole- 
ridge, poet, 1772-1834; Sir Walter Scott, 1771-1832, flourished. 

Victoria, granddaughter of George III. Accession 1837, now 

(1883) in the 47th year of her reign. 

" Worthy of earth's proudest throne, 
Nor less, by excellence of nature, fit 
Beside the unadorned hearth to sit, 
Domestic queen where grandeur is unfeaown." 

Queen Victoria's reign of forty-six years is longer by a year 
than Elizabeth's, and exceeded in length only by those of Henry 
III., Edward III., and George III. During her reign the world 
has gained cheap newspapers, cheap postage, telegraphs, transatlan- 
tic steamers, and a score of revolutionizing inventions and discov- 
eries. The queen scarcely ever misses a book of note that comes 
from the press in England, and is fond of George Eliot's works, and 
keeps a set at hand. A lady in waiting reads the newspapers, and 
marks what she thinks will interest her mistress. 

1837. — Rebellion in Canada; conciliation and repression, and re- 
form of evils; the two provinces united in 1840. 

1838. — "Chartist" and "Corn-Law Repeal " agitations. "The 
Anti-Corn-Law League " formed. 

The Chartists demanded universal suffrage ; vote by ballot, instead 
of vzva voce ; annual Parliaments ; remuneration of members of Par- 
liament, so that poor men could serve ; and abolition of the property 
qualification. Only one of these reforms is as yet adopted. Scarcity 
of wheat caused general demand for abolition of the import tax on 
grain and bread. The- food question was really at the bottom of all 



324 Pictures from English History. 



the agitation. A Chartist petition bearing- over a million signatures 
went up to Parliament, which refused to even receive it. Serious 
outbreaks occurred in many cities. At Newport the military fired 
on the Chartists, and killed or wounded twenty. The leaders were 
transported. It took eight years for Sir Robert Peel to secure the 
repeal. 

1839. — War with China, to compel her to take opium of British 
traders, called The Opium War ; Hongkong ceded to England. 
1840. — The Penny Post instituted. 

It not only cheapened but equalized postage, so that all subjects 
stood equal as to postage. There had been great abuse of franking 
by wealthy and titled classes. Sir Rowland Hill was the father of 
" Post-office Reform." He advocated the principle that to cheapen 
postage would increase the revenue, and it proved so, against the 
predictions of most of the leading men, 

1840. — The queen marries Prince Albert, of Saxe-Cobourg Gotha. 

1842. — The Afghan War; massacre of English in Khyber Pass; 
Cabul retaken by General Pollok. War in Scinde ; Scinde and the 
Punjaub annexed to Great Britain, (in 1S49.) 

1846. — Famine in Ireland ; Sir Robert Peel breaks from his party, 
and moves the repeal of the Corn Laws as a measure of relief, loses 
power and popularity, and immortalizes his name. 

1850. — Death of Peel. 

1 85 1. — " Crystal Palace " World's Exhibition, 

1854. — The Crimean War. Battles of the Alma, (268,) Balaklava, 
and Inkerman; siege of Sebastopol. England, France, and Turkey, 
allied to resist the designs of Russia upon Turkey. Owing to the 
wretched organization of the English army-service, the commissariat 
and quartermasters' departments broke down. The army suffered 
for food and clothing, and great mortality ensued. Great indignation 
in England ; large sums subscribed, and Florence Nightingale or- 
ganized the volunteer nurse corps to go out to the relief of the 
depleted troops. A ministerial crisis was precipitated by the mis- 
management of the war. Half a million lives were lost in this war, 
and vast treasures. The treaty of Paris, 1856, secured the evacuation 
of the Crimea and the reduction of Sebastopol, Turkish territorial 
integrit}^ limitation of Russian naval power in the Black Sea, neu- 
trality of the Dardanelles, and reformed the international law of 
warfare, as to blockades, privateering, etc. 



Chronology. 



325 



1857-58. — The Indian Mutiny ; massacres at Cavvnpore, Lucknow, 
and Delhi by the Sepoys ; relief of Lucknow by Sir Colin Campbell ; 
destruction of the ancient native dynasty of Hindustan ; the King of 
Delhi executed, but the fate of Nana Sahib was never known. The 
war was marked by savage butchery of white rnen, women, and chil- 
dren, and almost equally savage retaliation, when the English got 
the upper hand, by deeds of great valor and endurance and many 
thrilling adventures. 

1858. — Jewish disabilities removed. 

1 86 1. — Famine in India ; death of Albert, prince consort, an event 
the q\ieen has never ceased to mourn. 

1865.— -The Fenian conspiracy. 

1867. — Disraeli ministry ; second reform bill passed, enlarging the 
elective franchise ; Abyssinian War ; suicide of King Theodorus on 
the approach of the English ; release of the Christian captives of the 
Abyssinians. 

1868. — First ministry of Mr. Gladstone; he passes the act dises- 
tablishing the Irish Church, and (in 1870) new measures for popular 
education. 

1874. — Second ministry of Disraeli ; the title of " Empress of In- 
dia" added to the queen, 1876. 

1877. — War between Turkey and Russia. All the powers take a 
hand in settling it in the Treaty of Berlin ; England gets Cyprus ; 
height of Disraeli's power. 

1879.— Zulu War. War in Afghanistan ; massacre of English at 
Cabul ; Gen. Roberts retakes Cabul ; Afghanistan abandoned by the 
English, (1881.) 

1880. — Second Gladstone ministr^r. 

1881. — Death of Disraeli, Lord Beaconsiield ; war with the Boers, 
South Africa ; Gladstone's brave concession of their rights against 
popular clamor. 

1881-83. — Irish Land League agitation ; outrages. Boycotting, etc., 
notwithstanding which Gladstone passes Irish Land Bill, Arrears of 
Rent Act, and other measures for the relief of Ireland, together with 
severely repressive measures, (1882.) Murder of Lord Frederick Cav- 
endish and Mr. Burke in Phoenix Park, Dublin ; five conspirators 
detected and hung, and others transported for the crime, in 1883. 
Detection and punishment of Irish dynamite conspiracy. Egyptian 
War; rebellion of Arabi against the Khedive suppressed by the 



326 Pictures from English History. 

English ; Alexandria bombarded and Arabi's forces captured ; Arabi 
banished ; English protectorate over Egppt. 

A few of the great names of this memorable reign: Generals: 
Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, 1 769-1 852, prime minister 
1828-30; Sir C. J. Napier, 1782-1852, historian of the Peninsular 
War; Lord Clyde, Sir Colin Campbell, 1 792-1 866, distinguished in 
India and the Crimea. Statesmen : Sir Robert Peel, 1799-1869; 
Earl Derby, 1799-1869, thrice prime minister; Lord Palmerston, 
1785-1865, thrice prime minister; Lord Brougham, 1788-1868, 
scholar and fine orator; Richard Cobden, 1804-1865, great apostle 
of free trade ; Lord Russell, Benjamin Disraeli, (Lord Beaconsfield,) 
John Bright, W. E. Gladstone. Men of science: George Stephen- 
son, 1781-1848, constructor of the first railway; Sir M. L Brunei, 
constructor of the Thames Tunnel ; Sir David Brewster, natural 
philosopher ; M. Faraday, chemist ; John Stuart Mill and Herbert 
Spencer, political philosophers ; John Tyndall, Charles Darwin, and 
T. H. Huxley, scientists. Authors : William Wordsworth, Robert 
Southey, Thomas Moore, Alfred Tennyson, and Elizabeth Barrett 
Browning, poets ; Henry Hallam, James Anthony Froude, Lord (T. 
B.) Macaulay, J. R. Green, historians ; Charles Dickens, W. M. 
Thackeray, Lord (Sir E. B.) Lytton, Mrs. Lewes, (" George Eliot,") 
novelists ; Thomas Hood, humorist and poet ; Thomas Carlyle, 
essayist. 



Appendix. 327 



APPEIsTDIX. 



THE STUDENT'S MEMORANDA. 

The reader of this volume may increase the value of his 
reading by filling the blanks on the following pages. 

The time and effort required to do this will be well-spent, 
as the exercise may be the very thing that will secure fruits 
of the reading by stamping clear impressions indelibly on 
the memory. It is what we remember, of that which we read, 
that benefits us. Recalling what we have read, and putting 
that knowledge in one's own language, is the best way to 
thus fasten the impression ; and when one also writes an 
opinion of what he has read he has created a thought, and 
some one says, " He who can think, and think, and think, 
is great." It is a good beginning of thinking to merely com- 
pare things you have read. To be able to say, " This is good, 
this is better, that is best, these I do not like," and to be 
able to give one good reason for the choice, is going a step 
farther in criticism, in the formation of literary taste, and 
the development of mental power. Therefore, if you can do 
nothing more, state one fact — -a date, a name, a place in each 
blank, and so nail that there ; if you can add a thought of 
your own — approbation or dissent, it makes no difference — do 
that. In this way you will make this Appendix the most valu- 
able and the most living part of the book — renowned and 
brilliant as are the contributions of genius which it contains- 

The work may be done any time ; but it is suggested that 
a good time would be soon after reading a "Picture" and 
the contemporaneous " Chronology," while the whole is still 
fresh in mind. If it is done at once, it will be the more 
likely not to be left undone after waiting. 



328 Pictures from English History. 

Record. — 

Began reading this book •:. 188^. 

Finished it , 1 88 o.' 



Name vy^'A'Wr . . . . 

Residence . . . ^ .i.iiW^ 



A Statement. — The object of this book : 



An Outline. — The contents of book stated in few words ; 



Appendix. 



329 



A Selection. — Name, in order of your preference, the three 
" Pictures " that best satisfy you : 



5>;y 



Give, if you can, one or more reasons for your first choice 
— as style, subject, moral, interest in author or persons 
described, etc. : 



Biographical. — Name, in order of preference, three char- 
acters in this history whom you most admire : 



330 Pictures from English History. 

Give, if you can, reasons for first choice, as grandeur of 
his career, high character, sympathy ifor sufferings or death, 
influence on humanity, etc., etc. : 



Give as many facts as you can regarding each of the fol- 
lowing persons, so far as you have learned them from this 
book, including your own observations on his time, character, 
and acts : 

Alfred the Great : 



Queen Anne 



Augustine : 



Appendix. 33^ 

Becket : 



Boadicea: 



Anne Boleyn : 



Black Prince i 



Bruce 



Bade: 



Pictures from English History. 



Bulvver 



Caroline, wife of George IV. : 



Caractacus : 



Carlyle 



Canute : 



Lord Chatham, the elder Pitt : 



Oliver Cromwell 



Appendix. 333 

Cobden : 

De Foe : 

Dickens : 

Disraeli, Lord Beaconsfield : 



Simon De Montfort : 



Edward I. : 



Edward II. 



334 Pictures from English History. 



Edward III, 



Edward IV. : 



Elizabeth 



Froissart 



Fox 



Froude 



J. R. Green 



Appendix. 335 



Georsje I. 



George II. 



George III. : 



George IV. 



Gladstone : 



Harold 



33^ Pictures from English History. 

Henry II. : 



Henry III. 



Henry IV. : 



Henry V. : 



Henry VI. : 



Henry VII. : 



Appendix. 337 



Henry VIII. : 



Hume 



John 



Stephen Langton: 



Margaret of Anjou : 



Queen Mary Stuart 



15 



S3^ Pictures from English History. 

Macaulay : 



Marshal Ney : 



Napoleon : 



William Pitt, the younger 



Robert Peel : 



Richard I., Coeur de Lion; 



Richard IIL I 



Appendix. 339 



" Richard IV. : " 



Sir Walter Raleigh 



Stephen 



Six Boy Kings : 



Scott : 



Sir Philip Sidney- 



Rowland Taylor : 



34© Pictures from English History. 

Thackeray : 



Walter Tyler 



Walpole 



Warwick, the King-maker 



Wellington 



Wicklifife 



Appendix. 341 

Wilberforce : 

William the Conqueror : 



William III. : 



Victoria : 



Events. — Name the three most important events narrated 
in these Pictures, and your reasons for so estimating them : 



342 Pictures from English History. 



State one or more leading facts, and one or more obser- 
vations on the following points : 
Druids : 



Roman invasion : 



Saxons 



Battle of Hastings : 



First Crusade : 



Penance of Henry 11. 



Appendix. 



Tournament : 



The Great Charter 



Bannockburn : 



Peasant rising : 



Cressy : 



The Plantagenets 



Invention of printing 



343 



344 Pictures from English History. 



Wars of the Roses 



Execution of Mary Queen of Scots : 



Spanish Armada 



Execution of Raleigh : 



The Roundhead Army : 



Execution of Charles I, : 



South Sea Bubble ; 



Appendix. 345 

Deposition of King James : 



The Chartist and Corn Law agitations 



Battle of Waterloo : 



Crimean War : 



15* 



346 



Index. 



INDEX, 



Abyssinian war, 325. 
Act of Settlement, 312. 
Adhelm, 33. 
Afghan war, 324. 
Asricola, Rampart of, 18, 
Alfred the Great, 3:^, 2T6. 

in the cowherd's hut, 34. 

conquers and converts the Danes, 37. 

his learning and government, 38. 

his lofty character, 40, 376, 
Anne, Queen, 312. 
Anne Boleyn, Queen, 175, 

execution, 178. 
Anselm, Archbishop, 281. 
Anti-Corn-Law League, 323. 
Arabi, Egyptian rebel, 325, 
Armada, Spanish, 194. 
Arthur, king of Britain, 33, 275. 
Augustine, his mission to Britain, 29. 

Babbington's conspiracy, 301. 
Barehohes Pai-liament, 306. 
Baroas' war against Heury IIL, 287. 
Battles : 

Agincourt, 293. 

Alexandria, 318, 

Algiers, 320. 

Alma, 268, 324. 

Balaklava, 324. 

Bannockburn, 108, 289. 

Bamham Moor, 292. 

Boroughbridge, 289. 

Bothwell Bridge, 308. 

Boyne, 311. 

Bunker Hill, 316. 

Calais, 119, 290, 

Camperdown, 318. 

Cape St. Vincent, 318, 

Chalgrove Field, 304. 

Chevy Chase, 291, 

Concord, 316. 

Copenhagen, 318. 

Cressy, 113, 290. 

CuUoden, 314. 

Dettingen, 314. 

Dover, 306. 

Dunbar, 288. 

Dunbar, 308, 

Edgehill, 304. 

Evesham, 287. 

Falku-k, 288, 314. 

Fontenoy, 314. 

Gisors, 285. 

Halidon Hill, 290. 

Hastings, 55, 56, 60, 279. 



Battles : 

Homildon Hill, 393. 

Inkerraann, 324. 

La Hogue, 311. 

Laufteldt, 314. 

Lewes, 287. 

Lexington, 316. 

Loudon Hill, 289. 

Marston Moor, 213, 805. 

Minden, 315. 

Naseby, 305. 

Neville's Cross, 890, 

Nile, 318. 

Of the Siianish Succession, 813. 

of the Wars of the Roses, 294. 

Poiotiers, 890. 

Preston, 305, 

Preston Pans, 314, 

Qaebeo, 315, 

Saratoga, 316. 

Sherillmuir and Preston, 813. 

Shrewsbury, 292. 

Sluys, 890. 

Stamford Bridge, 278. 

Standards, 281. 

Tenehbrav, 281. 

Towton, 160. 

Trafalgar, 318. 

Waterloo, 255, 

Worcester, 306. 

Yorktown, 317. 
Beaconsfleld, Lord. (See Benj. Disraeli.) 
BecKet, Thomas, Archbishop, 75, 283. 

quarrel with Henry II., 283. 

Assassination of, 75-79, 283. 
Bede, 86, 32. 
Black Prince at Cressy, 117. 

at Poictiers, 890. 
Bloody Assize, The. 309. 
Britons, Ancient, 10. 

religion, 12, 

modes of warfare, 11. 

Heroism of, 16, 17, 20, SI, 

Belies of, 19. 

appeal to Rome for protection, 375, 
Boadicea, Queen, Tragedy of, 16, 374. 
"Brian de Bols Gilbert," 87. 
Bruce, Robert, 108, 889. 
Burleigh, Lord, Death of, 301. 
Burnet, Bishop, 233. 
Bute, Lord, his unpopular ministry, 315. 
Byng, Admiral, 313, 815. 

Cade's, Jack, rebellion, 145, 146, 
Caedmon, the cowherd, 32. 



Index. 



347 



Ca?sar, Julius, Invasion of Britain by, 14. 


Druid temples, 13. 


Calais, Siege and capture of, 119. 


Druids burned at Mona, 16. 


recapture by French, 399. 


Dunstan, 41-47. 


Calendar, Change of, 314. 


his craft, 41, 42, 


Canada, Conquest of, 245. 


his cruelty, 43. 


Canute, 48. 


his C:hurch polity, 44. 


Caractacus, 15. 


Dynamite conspiracy, 325. 


a prisoner at Rome, 16, 274. 




Caroline, queen of George IV., 319. 


Edgar, 44, 277. 


trial of, 321. 


Edred, 42, 276. 


riots at her funeral, 321. 


Edmund Ironsides, 48, 277. 


Carlyle, Thomas, 220. 


Edward the Confessor, 278. 


Cassivellaunus or Caswallon, 14. 


Edward I., 108, 287, 288. 


Catholic disabilities, 322. 


Edward II., 108, 289. 


Cato Street conspiracy, 323. 


Edward III., 113, 289. 


Cavaliers, 213. 


at Cressy, 117. 


Charles I., 213, 303. 


at Calais, 122. 


at Naseby, 305. 


Edward IV., 149,294. 


Betrayal of, 3C5. 


prisoner to Warwick, 151. 


dethroned, 213. 


at Barnet, 153. 


executed, 306. 


Edward VI., 298. 


Charies II., 221, 307. 


Edwy, 43, 277. 


measures of vengeance against Par- 


Egyptian war, 325. 


liamentarians, 307, 308. 


Elizabeth, Queen, 187, 300. 


manner of death, 309. 


character, 205. 


his character by Rochester, 309. 


Death of, 205. 


Chartist agitations, 323. 


opinion on transubstantiation, 299. 


Charter, Great. (See Magna Charta.) 


English people. 


Chatham. (See Pitt.) 


condition in time of Richard I., 85. 


Chaucer, 1-30. 


development of under the Plantag- 


Christianity, first introduction Into Brit- 


enets, 134. 


ain, 18, 26. 


Origin of, 136. 


introduction by Augustine, 275. 


under William and Mary and Anne, 


Clive, Lord, 245. 


234. 


Colomba, 32. 


under George II. and III., 241, 247, 


" Commoner," " The Great." (See Pitt.) 


250, 320. 


Commonwealth, The, 30G, 307. 


under Mary, 209. 


Constitutions of Clarendon, 283. 


Essex, Earl of, execution. 203. 


Corn Law repeal, 323. 


remorse of Elizabeth therefor, 204. 


Covenanters, 304. 


Ethelbert, King, converted. 29. 


Curfew-bell, 279. 


Ethelred "the Unready," 47, 277. 


laws abolished, 281. 




Crimean war, 268, 324. 


Famine in Ireland, 324. 


Cromwell, Oliver, 213, 306. 


Fenian conspiracies, 325. 


character by Carlyle, 220. 


Feudal system introduced into England, 


rejects the crown, 307. 


279. 


Cromwell, Richai-d, 307. 


"Field of the Cloth of Gold," 171. 


Crusade, First, 60. 


Fire In London, The great, and its monu- 


Crystal Palace, 324. 


ment, 308. 




Five members, arrest attempted, 304. 


Danes, invasion of England, 34, 48, 276, 


Fox, Charies, 317, 310. 


277. 


French revolution,- 317. 


Danish line of kings, 277. 


Froissart, 118, 123. 


Danegelt, 277, 279. 


Front-de-Boeuf. 87. 


Danelagh, 45. 


Froude, J. A., 193. 


Defender of the Faith, 297. 




De Foe, Daniel, 226. 


Geoffrey of Monmouth, 281. 


Scott on, 221. 


George I., 313. - 


De Montfort. (See Simon de Montfort.) 


George II., 241, 314. 


Dickens. Charles, 9, 39, 144. 


George III., 241, 250, 315. 


Disestablishment of the Irish Church, 325. 


liis courage, 253. 


Disraeli, Benjamin, 325. 


his insanity, 254. 


Disraeli, Isaac, 212. 


George IV., (as prince regent,) 319. 


Doomsday Boob, 280. 


as king, 321. 


Drake, Admiral, 197, 300. 


Gladstone, W. E., 325. 


Druids, 12. 


Goodwin, Earl, 51, 278. 



348 



Index, 



Gorden, or " No Popery " Riots, 317. 


Joan of Arc, 293. 


Grand remonstrance, 304. 


John, 84, 135, 285. 


"Great Commoner." (See Pitt.) 


plots against his brother, 84, 284. 


Green, John Richard, 129, 184. 


signs the Great Charter, 285. 


Grepory, projects Mission to Britain, 28. 


Junius, Letters of, 316. 


Gunpowder plot, 302. 






Kinglake, A. W., 273, 


Hampden, John, 303. 


" King-Maker," The. (See Warwick.) 


singular death, 304. 


Kits Coty House, 13. 


high character, 305. 


Knights of the Round Table, 23. 


Hanover, House of, 313-326. 


Knight, Charles, 33, 66, 103, 134. 


Hardicanute, 277. 




Harold I., (Harefoot,) 277. 


Lancaster, 146, 292. 


Harold II., 51, 53. 


Lancaster -York, line, 292-295. 


elected king, 278. 


Land League agitation, 325. 


wins Battle of Stamford Bridge, 279. 


Lan franc. Archbishop, 280, 


slain at Hastings, 279. 


Langcon, Stephen, 98. 


Harvey, Dr., 302, 304. 


" Last of the Barons." (See Warwick.) 


Hastings, Warren, Trial of, 317. 


Lollards, The, 129. 


Hastings, Battle of, 55, 279. 


Long Parliament, 213, 304, 306. 


its decisive influence on the world, 




56-60. 


Macaulay, T. B., 139, 240. 


Hazewell, C. C, 60. 


" Mad Parliament," The, 287, 


Henry I., (Beauclerc,) 280, 281. 


Magna Charta, 98, 135, 285. 


Henry II., 75, 282. 


its provisions, 102. 


Penance of, at Canterbury, 80. 


broken by Henry III., 103. 


his rebellious family, 283, 284. 


Mahon. Lord, 241. 


his unhappy death, 284. 


Margaret of Anjou, Queen, 148, 152. 


Henry III., 103, 286. 


her energy and courage, 150. 


breaks the Charter, 286. 


Masham, 3Irs., Queen Anne's favorite. 


Henry IV., 129, 292. 


313. 


Henry V., 139. 


Martyr, First English, 202. 


at Agincourt, 143. 


Mary Queen of England, 180, 208. 


Shakespeare on, 293. 


persecution of Protestants, 181. 


Henry VI., 145, 293. 


character by Motley, 184. 


made captive by Yorkists, 147. 


Mary II., 310. 


released by his wife, 149. 


death of, 311. 


driven into exile, 150, 


estrangement from her husband, 311. 


captured again, 150. 


Mary Queen of Scots, 300. 


murdered, 162, 294. 


execution of, 187. 


Henry VII., 166, 295. 


Matilda invades England, 66, 281. 


as Earl of Richmond, 162. 


declared queen, 281. 


wins Battle of Bosworth, 165. 


escapes from Oxford, 74, 282: 


Henry VIII., 171, 175, 296. 


Monasteries, Suppression of, 297. 


Heptarchy, Saxon, 33, 275. 


Motley, J. L-, 186, 202, 


Hereward, the outlaw, 69, 279. 




HoUinshed, 79. 


Napoleon Bonaparte, 255. 


Horse, White, Standard of Kent, 11. 


New Forest, 280. 


Hundred Years' War, 290, 294. 


Newton, Sir Isaac, 310. 


Hume, 206. 


Ney, Marshal, at Waterloo, 259, 266. 


Huss, John, 132. 


Nightingale, Florence, in the Cri mean war, 

324. 
Norfolk, Duke of. Execution of, 300. 


India, British conquests in, 245, 315, 318, 


324, 325. 


Norfolk, Earl of, defies King Edward I., 


Indian mutiny, 325. 


288. 


" Ivanhoe," Sketch from, 84. 


Normans, Characteristics of, 58, 279. 




Spoliation of England by, 59, 279. 


James I., 207, 213, .302. 


Norman line, 279-282. 


"counterblast" against tobacco, W3. 




James II., 227, 309. 


Dates, Titus, 308. 


his weather vane, 310. 


O'Connell's agitation, 322. 


flees the kingdom, 231, 310. 


Opium war, 324. 


Jeffries, Lord, 309. 


Oldcastle, Sir John, Martyrdom of, 134. 


his bloody assize, 310. 


Orange, Prince of, invades England, 310. 


death, 2i&. 


Orangemen, origin of term, 311. 


Jewish disabilities removed, 325. 


Orleans, Maid of, 293- 



Index. 



349 



Parliament, First elective, 103, 287. 

Parliamentary reform, 3*30, 3:33. 

Peasant rising, The, l'J4. 

Peel, Sir Robert, 322, 324. 

Pennant, Origin of the, 303. 

Penny post, 324. 

Peter the Hermit, 61, S80. 

Petition of right, 303. 

I'hoenix Park murders, 32.'i. 

Philip of Spain, husband of Mary, 1S4. 

wars upon England, 19 I. 
Pitt, William, earl of t'luiUiam, 241, 314, 
315. 

his war policy, 244. 

death, 316. 
Pitt, William, the yonnger, 317. 

his pathetic end, 319. 
Plague, The great, 221, 308. 
Plantagenet line, 2S2-2';il. 

origin of the term, 281. 

England under thtii- rule, 134. 

ends in Richard U., 2;)1. 
Popish plot of Gates and Dangerfleld, 308. 
"Pride's Purge," 216, 305. 
Printing, Invention of, 294, 295. 
Prince of Wales, origin of the term, 

288. 

Quebec, Capture of, 244. 

Raglan, Lord, 268. 
Raleigh, Sir Walter, 207-212. 
RebeUion, Irish, of 1798, 318. 

Canadian, 323. 
Refoim bill, 322. 

Second, 325. 
Restoration of the Stuarts, 307. 
Revolution of 1688, 310, 
Richard I., (Cceur de Lion,) 84, 284. 
Richard II., 124, 291. 

presence of mind, 127. 

assassination, 292. 
Richard III., 162, 295. 

as Dulce of Gloucester, at Baruet, 160. 

at Bosworth-fleld, 164. 
Robert of Normandy, imprisoned by his 

brother, 281. 
Robin Hood outlav^'S, 285. 
Rogers, John, martyr, 183. 
Roses, Wars of the, 145. 
Roinan invasions, 14. 
Roundhead army, 213. 
Round Table, Knights of, 23. 
Rump Parliament, 216, 305. 

dispersion by Cromwell, 219. 
Runnvniede, 95), 101. 

Russell, Lord William, Execution of, 308. 
Russell, Lord John, 322. 
Rye House plot, 308. 

Saxons invade Britain, 18, 20. 

characteristics of, 24. 

wealth and aristocracy, 57-59. 
Saxon line, 275. 

restored, 278. 
Scott, Sir Walter, 98, 113. 



Sebastopol, Siege of, 324. 
Self-denying ordinance, 305. 
Senlac. (See Hastings.) 
Sepoy rebellion, 325. 
Seven Years' war, 314. 
Severus. Wall of, 18, 274. 
Seymour, Jane, Queen, 297. 
Ship-money, 303. 
Sidney, Algernon, 308. 
Siiiinel, Lambert, 106, 290. 
Sir Philip Sidney, 301. 
Simon de Montfort, 103, 280. 

Simon's first Parliament, 104. 

Death of, 108. 
Six boy kings. The, 41. 
Slavery abolished, 323. 
Smith, Sidney, opinion of the Reform Bill, 

323. 
South Sea Bubble, 234. 
Spanish Armada, 194. 
Spinning-jenny, 316. 
Stamp Act, 316. 
Star cliamber, 304. 
Stephen, 281. 

seizes the crown, 66. 

at the battle of Lincoln, 70, 282. 
Strickland, Miss, 180. 
Stuart, Line of, 302. 
Suppression of the monasteries, 297. 

Taine, H. A., 24-26. 

Taylor, Rowland, Martyrdom of, 181. 

Thackeray, Wm. M., 255. 

Thierry, Augustin, 74, 83. 

Tournament, Description of, 84-98. 

Towton, Battle of, 150. 

Trial of the Seven Bishops, 310. 

Tudor, Line of, 295-306. 

Tyler's, Wat, insurrection, 124. 

Tyrone's rebellion, 301. 

Union of England and Scotland, 31-3. 
Union ol England and Ireland, 318. 

Van Trorap's broom, 306. 
Victoria, Queen, 323. 

Wallace, 288. 

Walpole, Horace, 237, 313. 

Warbeck, Perkin, 166, 296. 

claims crown from Henry VII., 106. 

executed, 170. 
Wars of the Roses, 145, 294. 
Warwick, Earl, "the King-maker," 147, 
152. 

at Barnet, 155. 

death of, 100. 
W'ellington, Duke of, at Waterloo, 257, 

264. 
Westminster Abbey, 278, 287. 
White, Rev. James, 47, 170. 
Wilberforce, Win., 323. 
Vv'ilkes, John, 315. 
William I., (the Conqueror,) 53, 279. 

invades England, 55. 

death, 280. 



35° 



Index. 



William II., (Rufiis,) 60, 280. 
William III., of Orange. 227, 310. 

Invades England, 228, 310. 

deposes James II., 232, 310. 

accidental death, 312. 
William IV., 322. 
Wolsev, Cardinal, 297. 
^Vyatt's Rebellion, 299. 



Wycliffe, 129, 291. 

York and Lancaster, Wars of, It."). 
York, Duke of, claims tlie crown, 148. 

executed, 149. 

Second duke of, made Henry IV., 149. 
Yonge, Miss, 174. 

Zulu War, 325. 



THE END, 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



« 



020 946 162 6 



